life scatters only to return, like improvised notes, not ready to be put down

time stretches like a
bird's wing –
decisive,
clean,
burdened –
here's
to eternity


the city revels
in the reveal – sharing a
moonlit exposure


just before day-
break, we are
porous,
allowing dreams
to come into
dreams, lifting
the unconscious
out of silence.
though you are only
a fraction of a
layer away,
awakening
staggers all senses


for just a moment,
children are calligraphy
brushes for a new
script – resilient, supple,
sharp – a refreshed narrative


for the living, death
is putting away the
jigsaw, one
puzzle piece of
longing at a time
clinging
to a single
memory
diminishes
the meaning


you have taught us
to be like blades
of grass – the taller
you grow, the
lower you must
bend – sometimes
it is hard
to see the sun
from here


on the corner, time
stands still,
waiting
to be
picked up, passed
by, desired, and
abandoned – all at once
multidimensional,
to be explored
by none other
than theoretical
scientists
of the heart


beyond pixels and
patterns, we stretch
our reflections,
finding
an unexpected
resilience


there is uncharted
territory within a
bead of water caught
by the curve of october's
wrist, waiting to be released


again and again
i stumble
upon pain,
failing to grasp
the true nature
of things


with the right
combination,
going back
is like finding
gold in the most
everyday things


accept happiness
as ephemeral,
recognize pain
as evanescent,
life's coin
is weighted
equally elusive,
equally attractive


as time must
pass, permit it
to carry away
your troubles


in November's
backyard, casting
afternoon shadows
against the wall,
an impression
of impermanence –
a sparrow,
a tree, a memory –
altogether brief


without warning,
the quietest
memories can
sprout wings –
in the middle
of the afternoon,
so suddenly
aflutter – a minute,
a heart, an eternity


there is only glass
between today and
tomorrow –
the answer lies
in how you
look past it


the sun sets like good
medicine, moving
across and
through the body
of sky for day's
solution, inevitably
comforting,
no delays


though one may not
change the world,
one can bend
with compassion
and wisdom
to take it on


moving on wears the
semblance of letting go, but
holds all too steady
the axis on which it spins
perpetually away


we connect to
disconnect, bringing
our bodies into
brilliant focus –
you might look
all new
in winter's light


no one has yet
isolated the
molecule, but
everyone suspect
it exists. what else
could consistently
carry, fold,
unfold, mend,
and polish,
at times lovingly,
these earliest
memories –
holding them
together
like a kind of
alphabet
for survival


i would repeat you
if i could, even if every
version ends the same


the city is an
impulse every time, the same
way you take to me


stop wasting time
finding fault in
others. look to
yourself – time
spent on
resentment
becomes
your own
undoing


we tuck bookmarks all
over the city, as a
reminder of where
we were and when we will re-
turn to finish our story


it takes a word to
undo a thousand words' journey –
please don't be careless


you squeeze air into
golden sustenance, a leaf
fueling the wind