How little we look.

And yet
No sculpure in stone
Nor canvas daub,

No photographic pixel mash

Can catch the
Soaring beauty,
Vouchsafed to me,

Of You

have you ever seen

moonlight on the lake?

the moon whispering

to the water lilies,

the lilies white as the lace of a bride's gown.

have you ever sat on a log

contemplating the mystery
of a cold and distant romance?

2 hearts
forever longing to,
but not able to embrace

separated by endless night...


...wild birds are singing,

and dawn's sweet chorus
chases away the sad, lonely moon.

have you ever heard the moon
loves the flowing water,

loves the mortal music
of earth-borne water lilies?

Searching for Galileo,
    the race to be first home,

In a sea of patients
    we climb the probability tree,
    walk upon the shore collecting
      memory shells,

We win the little wars,
     lose the big fight,

These windows are breathing apparatus,
     this ceiling, a blur of tungsten sky,
     rain, tears, weep,

To rest near to you,
     the technicolor sleep,
     and I died with you,

All farewells are sudden.

A scatter of ash

Itch
Scratch

A rash calf-

It took years for
The bark to spread-
Leg-trunk-head

Til roots sank from
Foot soles to
Molten core of iron-

For limbs to sprout from
Eyes-ears-mouth to
Foliate-

For boy to man
To grow-

Begin rustling

To speak or
Scream into the
Howling wind

Underbelly of seabirds
As
White blue grey sky
Scrolls above.

Feathers frolic on
Thermal waves
Unknown to eyes
On Southend pier.

Rusting legs step out to
Sea
Swell and cresting small
Over silted bed

the slow slide
down from the stars above. love,

it leaves so fast,
grows so quickly cold.

she had looked into the shark's dead eyes
and found the friend
that waits in silent shadows

that draw the dying
inside themselves and into

the lone, solitary ring
of the cold church bells song.

Sylvia stared with dead eyes
and rode the white horse of death into the fire.