Dear Z----,

Once, maybe, I was an Orpheus -

one of millions (there are still millions),
calling someone back from an underworld -

once, maybe, I had candles for fingers,
stars leaking from my teeth,
eyes that broke barred doors in twain.

But not now. You were so shy
at the bar's short shoal
giving me rain-in-Montreal smiles,
hinting at a history of disappointment.

Sometimes, it all changes in a single night -
but the magic failed us both.
I will always wonder.

So I am sorry: my hands, my eyes...
my starry mouth a wide sorry-slash.

I have to go. -E

wind shuffles
through the long grass

seeded heads
drowsy
in the percolating afternoon

broiled air
heavy and lethargic
laboriously ascends
its unseen ladder
into the barren sky

Arcady sings
from a place
of unimaginable height

the song
is a whisper
at the precipice

I am the wing
that awaits your breath
to take flight

if you can look at a cat
but not see a creature
that is both cute
and cunning
a hunter
and a scavenger
loyal yet with a pure sense
of it's own self importance
you're not ready
for people yet