clouds unwind
bring winter
in their white breath
dissolve and murmur
to the sea-sombre skies
of the scurry of wind
and wave
of the tumultuous
ache of the night
its oceans
its impenetrable
depths
its shore-slumbering
lights, in the thick
folding of winter
mist
the wonderment
of cloud.

walls of smoke          
ghost girl
floating

the small hours
dance to the song of
the moon

placed on a
wooden coat hanger
the satin clouds of the dark.

the thunder of
a small bird.

a poem grows shadows
and moonscapes,

the moon,
withered sapphires,
undone,
her open windows
a thread of bright
light.

pouring through
the body, heavy as
night’s alabaster walls,
light as a dancer’s arabesque,
temporal,
unearthly,
the flowers of the dark.

carnal scattering of
root and banished leaf,

merely human, the day
spreads maple leaves
like dark gusts of wind.

clouds more
intense in their
deep questionings,

the sky blossoms
like an early rose,  

the earth takes a deep breath
mourns for the brightest stars,

the moon gathers
mirrorings and soft
icicles, dreams of summer’s
thin feathery wings.

gold avenues of the sun
the playful wind
throws the leaves into
confusion
whispering like the
seas ebb and flow
carrying the leafy dreams of
the day
into my pockets
i drown, drown like a jealous tide
in the waves of your love.

i.

in the air
the sweet flow
of a bird.

ii.

drawn, perfect blossom,
the wind that refuses to settle.  

iii.

november’s fine golds
melt like clouds.

iv.

i burn for your kiss
like a bird that stays
with a boat
my lips seek your lips
forever.

i.

autumn’s leaves
scattered in pools,
a cloud of fine gold.

ivy scented skies
break free.

ii.

trees conjure dreams,
flow like a night breeze.

iii.

the sun is remote,
the fires of a wild sea,
damask shores
where we sink
to the floor....

iv.

sink further,
where quiet walls and skies
pierce our yearnings,
uncover a naked flame.

the trees settle their ghosts,
in the yellows of the sinking day
a strange wood
that waits for it to grow dark,
that sinks like a cloud
as falling leaves flood the sandy isles
with their sighs of fire,
as the trees ripple and flow
to a wind of immense breath,
rocking, floating down,
a sapphire ring left on a branch
by a girl who dreams of snow.

sing sweet bird
carved out of light
and air,
lord of the silvering birch,
monarch of the drifting skies.