Last night
I dreamt a dream that should not be dreamt
It was desire having a face
Saw two faces
One unfamiliar
One I knew


This morning
I saw my request to be a friend was accepted
Saw two common friends
One unfamiliar
One was you

Later
I read a poem
For a Japanese woodblock print
Of a woman and the two octopi
It was a dream of the fisherman’s wife.

Bamboos
Bend lithely
To strong winds

Sparrow's eyes
Speak of admiration

You may fall
But this, I tell you:

Broken reeds
Play great music

Hark Pan's story
Of his syrinx,
Beloved.

The Old Man asks,"When will He return?"
"Soon," replies the Woman.

The Child awaits the Woman's return.

an imago:

the butterfly
sips silky nectar,
looks for gold.

the pupa
hangs, holy chrysalis
hides the doll.

the caterpillar
nips springtime's bud,
shears hairy cat.

How does a fire keep its memories?

When did he start to keep them?

Sitting by the fireside,

I talked to him.

To ashes inside the urn.

A nocturne sung by the humid air.
Eddies of kitten’s wailing
From the corner’s orange lamplight,
Waiting for the ochre skin
Hawked by black cat’s sinful eyes,
Its ragged tongue dampens the barter’s rites.
Of silhouettes dancing
To the fading innocence at sight.
To a cadence of their own,
Roaches creep to deep cracks of the night.

Paris hurries to his proverbial apple
In my mind
While my own feet turn weary,
Giddy crossing the blue Rubicon --
"The die is cast," says Caesar
"The 'dye' was cast, says I.
A bettor I am, indelibly stained blue.