There’s a crack where ice meets the sun
A star open to the temporary
A hole to a cool underworld
I pause in this moment to ponder
My invitation to the party below
And yes, am I tempted
But so do I remember
Qualifications lacking
I am only half blind
Unstable when disconnected from earth
And cannot swim
Someone stirs Poet
imagining her a steamy soup made from river water
He only need stir and wait stir and wait
Boiling sends germs skyward
or so Someone has come to believe
Chains without locks unsteady his focus
but the jingling is comforting, a burden endured willingly for the prize
Red-winged blackbird alights in the hemlock’s shade
his song urging shuffling, then a reluctant stumble of a dance step
Oh distraction! Someone sways in reverie
disturbing the balance of malcontent
Poet escapes while Someone shakes a wooden spoon
that is not a spoon but a rattle with a song
Someone lifts a heavy head of grey anger
resisting the fragility of whispering clouds
Not yet has awareness opened wide enough
to notice Poet has taken the chains
Not yet Someone notices new lightness
Possibility in steps
Rag horses shed leftover rain
dropped overnight from clouds passing
when we were deep sleep dreaming
All of our words lay down to rest
between folds of our clothes there
next to our beds
Sunlight spreads slow up between
quiet roofs down the street beneath where
people we’ve yet to meet imagine the same
How small are we how
quiet at the core in grief
when we have known love
Street art on these walls
I walk between here and where
Art is in the air
Heron and me
Wind and sea
Space between us
Watcher and watcher watching
Am I alone here
Or part of a whole
Belonging is fleeting
Questions lift and fly
Melody of swash carries
Choirs from other shores
Night birds glide to clouds
I survey you surveying
Graceful hunter
Sky draws her shades
I choose a stone to throw
You don’t have to fly
Knowledge holds the sight in you
Wings like silent peaks
Once there was
Absence
Now screens rain
Abundance
What will become
of these rivers
whose content spills
Flooding every field
With Poetry?
You’d think with all my strength and will
I could break free this flimsy cage contains me waiting
You’d expect I would try
But conditioning takes effect
And you being such a convincing master
Instead I pace my allotted circle wide eyed with expectation
I comply with temporary surrender
Bravado Fear Submission
Seeing the basket meant to carry vegetables or flowers
A joyful attractive thing not a container to save you
The unsavoury experience of splatter
Your authority soiled by my blood.
Pencil Notes 