i cut myself today
once, twice, thrice,

and i wonder why
it felt so good

i wonder why
it felt
so
*relieving.

Life not a precedent

Long filaments
Fungiglide for years

For miles

Among leaf-
Littered remains.

Your dead father
(His love for you
Was not pure)

Unfurls
Phantasmogoric
In red orange
Gold

Singing formulae

Mushroomed
Sporing

Claiming the
Cosmos

Saying
Nothing

Clouding the
Old horizon
Of pernicious
And incurable



Hope.



Rot well
Daddy

Rot well
And return

Not.

walking on the beach
yesterday we picked
up a scallop shell

white to ivory on the outside
multi shades of purple within
truly a beautiful thing

once home and hearth to the scallop
or plate to the serving of he
after his demise

sometimes decorative window
on the sandcastles side
sometimes shovel to dig themoat
to turn back the tide

not often but at a pinch
a rental for a naked crab
til a better fit is found

platter for a sea bird's feast

marker for a lost wicket
in game of rounds
or beach cricket

necklace on silver thread
part of small creature roof
as the tide surges over head

if we had found two
could claim it at a bra
for small breasted
mermaid too.

once part of life, vibrant and small
eventually to, become particles
of sand, tossed about in wave
and sea.

the scallop shell,
what beauty
delicate but strong,
calcium at its finest

tideline jewel,
and a great skimming tool

we left the scallop shell
with the waves, to continue
it's journey, we gave it more days

In early morning, see your shadow now
borne from gold light from the window and here
it looks something silver on the desk and
bends over the chair, an arc of bird flight.
The morning light lingers like a halo.

Look further now, the richness at your feet.
For a moment, even your darkness shines.

Next morning, it will be here as usual
with the familiarity of a friend.
Not too long ago, life was all shadows
and not once did daylight shine on your own.

That time will come again, of course, but recall
that today stands alone and beautiful.