in the mango tree
across the street

a prattle of parrots
most evenings meet

to chew the fat
and the mango sweet

with a secret cue
they screech away

then circle back
as if to say

this was the best
part of your day

there have always been
great stretches

of silence
eventually

the arrival
and departure

of possibilities
seep slowly in

something
that glows

into focus
steady

and strong enough
gently forming

and holding its pose
for a moment

or two
constantly repeating

the same message

yes
here is the thought

yes
here are the words

in the little
of the morning

red flags
are already raised

the sounding wind moves
through the trees

unsettling
loose leaves

the horizon slides darker
stitched black

with lightning
bruised blue

with pummels
of thunder

first drops blink
on the dry ground

haloing
in the sand

all this
just before

the world
shrieks

and sighs

hovering
between two languages

light’s decay
must choose

its words
carefully

growling
in the distance

dark plumes
ruffle

the color
of the sea

out       side         in         in         side        out

when fear shakes
the breath from our lungs

when poison measures
too much

in the blood
how do we

return to center?
how do we

renew beauty?

i do not believe
in ghosts

but i am cordial to them nonetheless

i do not believe
in god

but from time to time i wonder how she is doing

i do not believe
in heaven

but i am curious as to what might be on the other side of this door

i do not believe
in hell

but just in case i mind my manners

i do not believe
in the beatles

well actually i do and they are definitely better than the rolling stones

the rains
have returned

as have the parrots
that now riot down

these evening streets
this morning

a hummingbird
ash grey

and the size
of child’s thumb

floated
between the flowerless branches

of a tree
              slowly

things have found
their way back

into focus
into some semblance

of routine
and order

but small cracks
remain

open invitations
for grief

to come
galloping back

                          did you really think you would be rid of me so easily?
                                                          that this would last only a moment?
        who do you think it has been filling your dreams with shadows?

sparks arc
the air

and sigh
into darkness

what was
once

is now
gone


      ]and so grinds grief[     ]the very pit of it[      ]the incessance[


and there will come a day

to shake down stars
and rediscover

and there will come a day

to push sorrow aside
and wake wanting

but not today
and certainly

not now

in the early hours
when you

set
upon a quiet house

now the morning
cracked

and screaming
now the weight

of so many words
now the smudge

the sun makes
and when at last

we catch cathedral
let us release you

to a bolt
of blue sky

dark
the morning down

where saturn jupiter
and venus

nibble
at a waning moon

where birds unseen
spit tinny notes

where light climbs
to the tip

of the rim
tripping up

into great spills
and seeping free

leaf to leaf
tree to tree

after you died
we sat there

just the two of us
in complete silence

your eyes
were still open

so i stood up
reached across

your quiet body
and closed them

i held your hand
until the doctor arrived

then he and i signed
the death certificate

soon after that
two men

from the funeral parlor
took your body

my mother
your daughter

sent an email today
reminding me

that had you lived
you would have been

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