what we build
with brittle sticks
and little scars
lingers
in the language
of trees
rests
among the secrets
of stones

we control nothing

stand on any shore
sights set to the horizon
searching for answers
but what we need

is not             touched by tides
is not             found in the sliding of the sun
is not             floating in the many blue notes of the sea

they remain
where they have always been
and where they always will

we woke
to winter weight

and silence
snow upon

bridgeandroofandroad
now the sky

a catch
of blue

pigeons punch
the sun

seagulls satellite
in circles

this carousel spins at perfect speeds

light is never
uninvited

love even
less so

we quick kicked thick
eddies of leaves

from skeleton trees
crows crack and scatter

frost kissed jack o lanterns
collapse

a swan wide winged
and wild

sunday church bells tell
the geese to arrow south

last night in bright papery bits
stars tossed and tangled

a moon collected upon the canal
i have no wants in this world

only this

today
the children asked
about the hollow bones
of birds
how long
it takes lava
to cool
through the din
and chaos
we brave
the rain
howl
at the moon
we crawl
through the mud
clutching
at mad relics
searching for clues
all this
to retravel roads
all this
to begin again

stirring my silence
with a spoon
i discovered this

deeper down
i found
different shapes
and colors

rinsing each
in the sink
i placed them
on the counter
to dry

later i rearranged
them slightly
and made this

the man
silver-haired

and tan
was wearing

a crisp blue
oxford shirt

a kelly green
silk tie

pressed khaki pants
and perfect

leather loafers
he tilted

his head back
and calmly lowered

the headless body
of the raw fish

into his mouth
fresh herring

bellowed the fishmonger
with obvious glee

in the evening


we breathed blue
a spectacle
of heaven reckless
the violence
of light
sticks
and stones
from the deepest room

                                 we wake to the wonder that wears us

from the ancient strand
keys
and locks
the pendulum
of planets
of time stretching
a sorrow
we seethed green


in the morning

in the end)

time& tide                 salt water
whisper                     stars upon
all away                     the skin

blood& bone             the order
bubble                        of things
with lifelight             the mystery  
                                    of things


a moon white silent


in the dark closet of dreams
shape & shadow speak in tongues chanting
we gather the ghost slow the circles
we ember around the sun

i am                                        alone
i am                 not                 alone

(in the beginning

i will tell my father
i weathered your absence

i will tell my mother
you left too early

i will tell my brother
now we are orphans

i will tell my friends
you are my family

i will tell you
grief is a dark cloud that dangles before the ever-patient sun

after you
the birds kept
to their mysterious notes
people moved
along the canals
one moment
the sky spat rain
the very next
it was unbearably blue
fields of impossible flowers
scented the air
the tides
true to their schedules
swept in and out
the moon hung
from its thin black thread
i wander our rooms
still calling your name

consider the chemistry             of time
the delicate machine                 of sunearthwindrain

the secret language                   of when
to harvest the heart                   and when

to wait

meanwhile
we remain

by the gates
straining

to catch notes
from deep

within cathedral walls

despite tender hands memories go dark
and we come to rest beneath unfamiliar moons

each church
green glassed

and steepled
will open its doors

we will all rise
to celebrate

those who have gone
before us

and those who will one day
walk us

to the bright white lights
of so many stars

when october
unstitched

her skins
scattering the remains

we touched
the yellow cloth

marveling
at the heat

of it all

later stepping
across the blue stones

of the sky
we breathed

in birdsong
and wood smoke

                                                                                     and remembering

when we return                of the world        of ourselves
to the routines                   to the silence

let us set                             let us sit
the stones                           in the gloaming
to a bright new room       and watch the light
and conceive                     shake with
of its colors                        beautybeautybeauty

what is your hand
in the mystery
of things?

what is it
that you choose
to gather?

with eyes
to the horizon
there can be no measure

we de
part

and asc
end
and

o    nce
o    ver
o    ceans

we se
ek the

f    ine
l    ine

of the      hor
i               zon

in the
end

we de
sc
end

and ar
              rive
a            live

in a new light on a new road to a new beginning

the rain
with its Round words

said nothing
quiEt were the grey sheets

of the sky
the new green

of trees
the many bells

of this town
kept sIlent

even the wind
wholly wild

held its toNgue
but still we knew

(deathhyouareadarkandfunnydoor)

steep the stone
the gentle folding

of blood
and bone

remain here
and help her home

                                                                                     she will have her way

the bald woman
with one breast

ran from the room
the jasmine scented ice scooped

upon the hot stones
proving too much

for her repairing senses
through the glass doors

of the sauna
we watched her

shaking her head
from side to side

holding the wall
for support

after a few minutes
she returned

the final bucket
of ice

was scented
with lemongrass

the bald woman
with one breast

closed her eyes
welcomed the heat

and whispered
yes

it is my first full moon in leiden
and the chambers of rain have stayed away

the black tanks of the canals are covered with a different skin
they whisper a different oath of light

thick with silver and uncatchable
often times it is just beyond the breaking of the waves

or tucked away in some cobwebbed corner
but it is always there right before us

that dangling fragment of mystery
that single note of light that can change everything

and if we wait and are patient enough
we will come to understand that it is not ours to hold

or own
but ours to always look for

on    we    we    wa         laughlapping
ce              re      ter         in the tided stands

on    we    we     fi           gathered
ce              re       re          at the feet of our fathers

on    we    we     li           cast clear
ce              re       ght       in a winter’s night

on    we    we     ai          perfectly winged
ce              re       r           from rope and swing

mother
with infant armed

walked the seaweed
and stones

further out the strand
her dogs galloped black

against the gulls
dull the blue skulls

of mussels
dropped shattered

on the path
and grass

along the cliffs
the sudden sun

breaking the grey
so silver

on the surface
of the sea

gathered before such things

we become light
we become breath
we become the wild gods within

shoeless
he sat on the sidewalk

and leaned into the shade
of a graffitied wall

he began drinking
from his brown bagged bottled

and when he finished
it was with great effort

that he stood
carefulish not to make contact with cars

or oncoming pedestrians  
he spilled himself

into the street
into the tilting sunlight

of harlem

inbe      t      ween
here      t       here

con(dis)
(so)so
nance(nance)

what we love
what we do not

under stand
stand under

tangled in so many strings crow black in color comfort chaos

are always are always
options
d i  s   s    o      l       v        i          n           g

in
new
light

i sense


by a window
watching the streets the bridge below


                                                                                                         someone


horizon-eyed
at the water’s edge


                                                                                                       beside me


in the cooled silence
of your forest


                                                                                               but i am alone

i pedal predawn streets
yellow globes
of lampglow

along the canals
dark the windows
and doors

so           me
ti            me
s                  birdsong and brightness

so           me
ti            me
s                  the pendulum of stars and moon

so           me
ti            me
s                  such a hiss and spit of rain

so           me
ti            me
s                  thewindandthewindandthewindandthewind

every corner
gathers its ghosts

reminding us
the living

to live

dead
leaves crowd corners
and doorways
wind kicked
and twisted
as we are
down sidewalks

stone steps
let confetti fly
into gutters
and scatter
upon the canals
dappled
as we are
with decay
moted notes
of yellowbrown

when i am old and     move slowly from window to window
when I am old and     my loves have all been collected
when I am old and     each season stuns me

i will wake
every morning
place my feet
on the floor
and breathe
for the first time

as a boy
i would

run the wind
swim the ocean

until the strand
was a pitching distant dream

i would
climb branch

after branch
until the curve

of the world
was my own

as a boy
i would think

nothing
of doing

these things
as a man

i can think
of nothing

else

teeter
          as we do

                         upon tightropes
                         wishing for wings
                         or puppet strings

carom
           as we do

                         down lightless streets
                         impatient with prayer
                         to get us there

stood before
the gathering sea

face to face
how it beckoned me

and when at last
i turned away

the sea was colored
charcoal grey

these
are braided days

leaves delicate
weaves

of last color
quick ribbons

of snow
tangled

through the grey fingers
of trees

and tie themselves
to me