In an instant
It empties away.
Dull attention aching into my pulse;
Pink pressed flesh waning
Moments ahead of the tide.


And in sorrow it flakes away.
October seeping on and through
Into its neighbor month
Leaving off where a sun could have smiled.
                       Light gained then gone
                      And found again in crooked ways.
                      Crooked light creaking on heavy feet
                      With a tongue full of smoke and camphor.


Lately we have been just souls
Ebbing into the narrow,
Night snug in our palms.
And we dream of feathers
With sleep in the stems.
Ochre tied with leather cord,
Hung above the door.


When morning curves its fingers around
The dark,
We laugh like chimes in a wooden sill.
Connecting in creation of color.
And through our resonance
His tar mouth stumbles
Shaking

Into the sea.