Sweet summer rains that kiss calm seas;
The cricket’s song that travels on the breeze.
Evening and daytime, what lies in between,
Painted, still waters, in twilight you gleam.
Horizons are born and hidden by night,
Each small star unimaginably bright.
Nestled in slumber, one lies in your heart,
A beacon of light from which you won’t part.
Sounds of the earth awaken you gently as
Morning emerges offering you plenty. You are
Innocent flowers who are greeting the sun.
The mountains and canyons, cratered and dun. You are my
Home, and my forever only one

i have always found myself
in the middle
actually born
in the middle of the day,
                                       month,
                                       year,
                                       decade
                                      (6.12.94)
very well-versed in
what it's like to be
simultaneously rich
and incredibly poor
living in other states
sleeping on the floor
sure

i walk a generational fine line
this gemini primetime,
of insoluble crises
the holy oil floats to the top
we learn
that feigned warmth cannot dissolve
the calcified ego of a leader or their god
you proclaim the name of jesus
but still cry out for someone to lead us
from gray
          gay
          awareness
          today

it's taken time and distance for this to be easy to say.

this is for the ones
who have always found
themselves in the middle,

america, honey, will you meet us there?

It was a lovely frosty morning
especially fine
for November

The grass is looking
strikingly green
in the autumn sunshine

In the early morning
sitting on our bench
a tiny willow warbler
comes around
very tame
hunting for food

I heard the pheasant
yesterday
but
could not see him