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birds not
                bats

are each
being eaten

like bubbles
                                                                               by alligators
grey tore
at the shore

and whitecapped
each wave

save
for the few

that tapped
my shoe

each gull
bentwinged dull

feathered sang of the sea
and of you

to me
the moon slurs
her words

plume like smoke
and feather fade

trace stitches
of stars unravel

black carvings
of birds

crease the netting
of trees

sunday morning children light
across the churchyard lawn

their grass stained laughter
lifts like leaves
green whisks of sea
and brooms of foam

sweep smooth the sand
of broken spokes of starfish sticks

of seaweed
and bleached sand dollars


common notes of the ocean throated by the wind


just beyond the wake of the boat
she rose grey green in the morning light

and slid beneath the dark water
she broke the surface twice more

before the boat’s pull
and her own power

put her at a distance
from me
cl    ouds
cl    imb

and pile
with a sin

                gle st  
ride

they are over
the mountains

)lighteningteethmumblethunder(

sometimes
there is release

sometimes
not

but for an open moment

                                                         we we
                                                         are are
                                                     made made
                                                           to to
                                                 notice surrender

to this world’s
only power
i remember me



                                                                stars cold
                                           in their constellations

                                                                dull colors
                                           windkicked into corners

                                                                one shadow walking
                                          with each hand empty




                                                                                                without you
it is quite simple
really
this world
and all its spinnings

joy
into            into
sorrow

clarity
into           into
madness

day
into           into
night

sooner or later
everyone’s flame
goes out
floating off
as we do
like slow ghosts
of smoke
in the end
all that matters
is that you find yourself
on one side
of the fence
or the other
no explanations
or apologies
needed
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