Why should it make me sad,
to watch the wind move through the leaves
of an elm tree in late May,
a great green cloud against the bluest sky.

Or to smell the sun heat the asphalt,
and tiny globes of sweat and Coppertone on my skin -
the golden smell of summer,
of knees skinned and healed and skinned again,
of sun-faded flags,
red white and blue dancing mounted on neighbors' porches,
neatly folded and forgotten the rest of the year.

Or to sit in my backyard
in the receding light with what is left of the day,
and listen in utter longing to the katydids
humming their summer incantation.
And wish, that if I could only bottle the sound
as I once did the magic of fireflies,
that repairing loneliness was as easy as opening jar.

the lost dog has died
Hades will come and find him
in night's forest, where
the mother Nyx hugs the trees,            
trying to console their grief.

I notice the silence

not anymore the chirping
or the chatter of the wind

I notice the hummingbird
trying stillness by furious

flapping I stop engaging
myself I let go of my eyes

frantic grasping of letters
on a page putting the book

down where it was letting
my head as beheaded

falling too

Swash arises with immeasurable strength
Cascading against a buckling hull
Lost screams echo incoherently in a dark abyss
White embers engulf the universe
As the world cracks in two

Waves distort life and death with gentle balance
Bestowing reincarnation against the odious blue kraken
Rolling innocently upon the great pale sea
Striding to quench a perishing thirst
Embarking on my final journey.

Stars of the night sky
Sing to me your silent song
The music of soul

The sweetest rhythm
Of breeze at twilight night sky
Comfort of Spirit