the shadow passes. darkening the lawns,
dimming the trees, shading the quiet streets.
two kids on bikes try to pedal beyond
the soft invasion of night, their whizz-click
echoes spinning off into twilight space.
a woman sleeps - window open a small
crack - dusk passing over her tranquil face.
a couple kisses behind a church, their
eyes closed just as the spring day hides away.
a child sits in the grass, feeling the warmth
of the sun pulled gently from the back of
his neck. he doesn't turn around. a breeze
tousles his curly hair and he laughs. he
looks at the back of his hand and a spot
of light appears. watching it grow, he smiles.

swan's wake
ripples
rusty leaves bob

gust in the hollow
february breath
snatched

a sound of a distant hymn sails to me
and brushes my ears, weaving between a
rush of wind at my back and a splash of
stream at my feet.  it's late afternoon and
the sun is long, a sprawl of passionate
gold sheltering the ripples of grass.  i
don't know where the church is.  i can't see it
from here but maybe it is a small white
one with fresh paint shaded by a giant
oak that adorns the roof in red and brown
as the light of summer fades into fall.

rain bolts beat the hood.
your look.  sodium yellow.
this street runs downstream.

if emotions are music, then the mind
is the instrument we learn to play.  we
get better with practice, but every now
and then we hit a false note, and hope that
the audience has the heart to forgive.

a moment.  wordless.
lake ripples.  pastel sunrise.
ashes drift.  goodbye.

he woke up, put on his mask and costume,
and left for the halloween party.  it's
very big, you see.  everyone is there.
every single day.  no one misses it.

empty bar.  silence.
hot sake.  frosted window.
snow in hokkaido.

she wore red for him because it was his
favorite color and she wondered if
he ever really noticed.  like, really
noticed.  the tight dresses, silk slips, even
stockings and bras.  that special shade of red.
not candy, crimson or cardinal.  it
was that unique hue.  or tint.  of blood.

dead leaves in the pool
half-floating crumples of rust
waving, waving, wav-

he was standing in the frozen food aisle
when she walked around the corner. she was
looking down and didn't see him. it had
been years. she looked up and turned her head in
his direction. their eyes met, a pause, a
burst:  "OH MY GOD! How are you??" she said as
she walked toward him with outstretched arms. he held
his arms out and as she folded into
him, their cheeks briefly touched and his eyes closed
as the refrigerator hum became
the sound of rain. rain outside a hotel
room in prague. the hush of soft rain mixed with
the drifting din of a street festival
below. a half-opened window pulled in
a curl of chilled air. he squeezed her body
and felt her skin.  the skin of her cheek on
his. in the frozen food aisle. in a prague
hotel room on a rainy afternoon.

there was no full moon tonight. clouds covered
the stars and the only thing she could see
through the back door window was her own pale
reflection.  the red lipstick she wore looked
smudged in the contours of the glass. her son
was sound asleep upstairs and her husband
wasn't home yet. she was hungry and thought
she would sneak out for a bite.  it would be
quick, easy. a perfect dark for hunting.
she could change at will.  who needs a full moon.

twinkling whirl of light
spaghetti straps, satin dress
diamond glitter sweat

what do you want from that woman you want
do you want it all or just some of it
what's beneath all the want; is it a need
maybe it's a need to want and, that's life.

i've fallen under.
my own. spell. i now see. all
that i want. to see.

scattered snow sticking,
a shape forming to my eye,
swan wings on the lawn.

the wind ravaged her
hair out on the moor as she
clutched her ripped green dress

a walk in the dark
reveals the flowers that bloom
underneath the moon

from the nothing place
spontaneous combustion
but was it random?

clean light and sharp air
hills cloaked in brown, gold and rust
autumn in england

the fair queen held her bouquet of white and
pink mums so closely to her heart, the loose
petals clung to her mother's blue dress like
sequins. nature's perfect touch as she saw
mom smile at the back of the school gym. then
she was gone. the crowd watched as tears trickled
over the fair queen's cheeks as she began
to proudly wave. but it wasn't for them.

the familiar creep
of night skeletons in dreams
toward infinity

a "forbidden" fruit
that keeps the doctor away
what a conundrum

turn.  a sweep of curls, piano-key black.
wave me inside with forget-me-not eyes.

the ring didn't fit quite right
but when she told him
it was simply too tight
the light in his eyes got a little less bright

"what do you mean?", he asked
"it's a little uncomfortable", she said
and his face appeared downcast
as if he'd just learned that a loved one had passed

"it's very beautiful, though", sensing his dismay
but then he surprised her
when he spoke urgently, without any delay
"what, exactly, are you trying to say??"

she didn't understand
she was taken aback
by some issue at hand
brought to light by an ill-fitting gold band

"um, just that the ring doesn't fit"
his silence she could feel
deep in her stomach's pit
so with tears in her eyes, "no really, that's it"

"yeah that's it", he exclaimed
and walked away angry
with her left ashamed
and confused for being blamed

a rain began to fall
soon she was soaked
standing there, feeling so small
right in the eye of this sudden squall

then she felt something had gone
so she held her hand up
to inspect the finger it was on
it had slipped off and was somewhere on the lawn

she searched in vain for the ring's reflected shine
but just when she finally gave up
the rain ended, which was clearly a sign
that everything, anyway, was going to be fine.

video stores, coffee shops, birkenstocks,
catherine keener.  i want to live there.

lovers between the rocks
on a remote part of the shore
with sand in their locks
and pain to explore

their skin changes hue
pink and then gold
before they vanish into
night's twinkling threshold

can't say it's something i totally admire
but his propulsive desire
i can't really blame
for so many of us are drawn to the flame

he had a dignified stillness
that communicated confidence
and an air of quiet dominance

but the truth he long denied
for despite his surface pride
he was panicked on the inside

so as he walked to work in the rain
he looked up, and a thought splashed into his brain:
"even the tallest, strongest buildings sway"
and that calmed his soul, at least for the day.

it's a place i've only seen in pictures
a ruddy monument of sand and stone
with bold striations like ancient scriptures;
a history engraved upon a colossal throne.

summer ghosts roam the islands
floating through flesh and bone
winter ghosts haunt the highlands
where lonely travelers are never alone

spring ghosts dance in the midlands
leaping through hearts like flame
and autumn ghosts chant in the woodlands
where the song is never the same

her purse had a large gold clasp
sweaty knuckles, she gripped it so tight
keeping the key to her heart's hasp
in a blackened place, away from the light

self-defense was her way of life
that no one else could really know
for emotion is the invisible knife
that can cut with the simplest "Hello".

clicking tap shoe echoes
through a hall of mirrored stages
a million miles of sold out shows
fill his worn out pages

the book is near complete
the curtain is descending
his ears know no defeat
for the applause goes on, unending.

face ripples in watery reflection
straining to see the bottom
i crouch for further inspection
and vanish into the colors of autumn

baby owl faces.
next world of forgotten air.
timepiece creatures work.

gratitude montage
crisis jesters love to death
passage of legend

honest expressions
that come from our one, true self
make us our own art

nothing like an unexpected embrace,
a gift of surprise affection, to teach
you how to embrace the unexpected

when we ask, do we
believe, or do we ask so
that we can believe

sun peeks through the stones
first light upon the altar
a dagger rises

he left the floor first
and she danced on, until her
final note was played

to be a star is
to be a lonely sparkle
crowded by darkness

night's pale eye stares down
the shadows are long tonight
i. am. transforming.

old phone receiver
cord curling from the damp ground
a scratchy voice:  "help"

winter dreams of spring
dreams of summer dreams of fall
dreams of winter sleep

be assured:  the way
things are right now become the
way things were back then

everything's fiction
everything is non-fiction
everything's fiction

colors come in waves
moonlight steel drum reflections
*** lips.  fade away

tiniest fractions
of lost time, framed and frozen,
warped by perception