write of parlay

we chatted over manners and harboured edges. these things … moved the line into a place of rural contemplation.

light the darker days
of gloom and melancholia
born from intrusions

and swede.

this is quality,
a fortunate piece.

in blue writing
as if
it is important
you see

your time will come

i will wait politely here until the day
and hope predicted don’t change
nothing
no more

while all around is trembling , we weave together
with dreams and possibilies.

there is not much more to add, it is lighter
now.                                       birds sing early.

once again we come back to ourselves.

small thing  ragged who knows all of it

pieces torn away

or

is it a moth here in the dark?


triangles bring mystery

a new mathematics.


the rooms were swept yesterday

bones hidden

teeth implied.



yet the shape remains embedded

sometimes dots

i looked out yesterday at the rain
on and off all day