There are so many trees
On this mountain it's hard
To know which one is you;
But I can hear the snow fall
Through the heavy thought of spring
And know that you are out there somewhere
Standing defiantly.

The dusk is full of iron sleep

I walk through the naked aspen

The cobwebs of all this motion

In a cold blood sky mind.

To know that the sun always shines
And that the darkness always devours
Well then, that's true peace.

I went for a walk
Down a path
The day after all
The wind blew all
The leaves out
Off the trees
Onto the empty stream
Into the empty forest
And filled those cracks
With some pretty
Yellow for awhile
Before the snow
Came after dusk
And killed all those
Stars with dreams –
Everything was grey
And cold and I went
for a walk to get
further away

Coast
I
Let me take your mind ashore.
I will catch you with a net
Of stars. As if the light
Has no other choice, but
To gather. The hard-shelled pieces
Of your memory. I will lay you
Out upon the sand. Then the
Sun will rise.

II
The old oak with it’s
Many dark places
Felt like a home
When it rained.

The slow moving mouths
Of lichen swept like a great army
Across the broken bones of the mountain
And isn't that the way love came too
So quickly and showed its sweeter
Tounge to the iron of our desires?
The better question being though;
Were we born, meant to dig holes
Or fill them in? Even the stars,
In all their vastness, ask
that one.

the poem should melt the mind the
words should be so, lascivious as if to
jump from the lips of stone
and kiss death itself. I know
the sun, have seen it's curse.
I know the moon have cried.
I know nothing of mountains but
the climb. I look at the sky as if
it was the sky. I dream too little
dread too much.

There's a mountain in your mind
And it's covered in pine
On a lake in the night
That's swimming in light
Of a moon, that's too lost to find.

There's a valley below
Where the rivers all flow
And a tree, full of white flowers;
That's blooming sweet empty hours
Into a careless, intrusive spring.

And never mind the words I spoke
As the stars turned to smoke
Or the kiss, that I stole from your face;
A simple embrace, of a time and a place
Together, that stitched in the pain.

We have gotten here because
We cannot remember; if we
Remembered we would not be here
The folded field gold, the brown woods darkening. So far from where we began those softer memories, like a deeper mist moving through the trees. The open window the open mind, free of fear and full of love, it was there in all places hiding in plain sight, shy and nervous. I dreamed last before death of the sun dieing in the winter wood
Like a candle before the breathe
Of sleep blowing gently
Blurred, orange and grey.