what thread dropped after
the cicada passed
or what mist started
to build in the part
of the story where
your eyes blur and your
feet grow clammy on
the earth of fresh graves
Tag Archives: earth
Venus over my shoulder on sharp frozen earth these uncut toes
(First published in Modern Haiku.)
In the morning you can reach out and see on the breeze in the mind the damp stone tightening straps keep him in place the pain in his cell the confession conversion meaningless at this point or the life by the sea rough stone grey the children I pushed through and lined up in the earth and the cliffs so beautiful lonely one time one town on the frontier barely built I can still smell new cut wood that simple home sun creeping through seams in the wall another sunny place warm weather sweet breeze always fetching writing down his many thoughts the wine was good
when you tried to kiss that star and fell haltingly down to an earth full of vole tracks and pebbles left from the unending work of burrows your mouth burnt but with the promise of new tender skin you walk on
though it swings this way twice a day few have so much as caught a whiff of its fur that shines with the earth’s last greasy riches
summer evening
the old dog slowly digs
the earth