winter sunrise a string of rejections back into the sky
his face the dark landscape before the train stops
I smoke too much in dreams fine welding on the mermaid
the sweetness of apples past their prime in the blue dawn
a few green sprouts from the stubble I start a new blog
thin winter moon I dust the old dog’s ashes
lingering dark the cold sting of my pastrami
spots on the sun her voice goes on forever
light snow on thin branches I catch and release the fly
the stone in my gut between waxing and waning
other animals 