twin show visions
whispering from beneath the sour hiss
of the pump fridge coolant hum
the dust darkness smirk
as fun as the stark stare of the kitchen
window

winking red light phone
a stack of messages
before and before the tidy
hours slipped from a sun filled
departure to the midnight
arrival

blue bus thunders past the
lights a universe of flouresent
apparitions staring

i can read the walls and calculate
the codes from channel fifty four

Like eternal light touching ancient ground
his shadow appears to me.

Then his eyes are falling down at me,
it's summer and I'm standing in the rain.

His eye enamel touches my skin because
he knows I swear of tempera dirt all over my body.

He surrounds me like a cave and my heartbeat
becomes a heartbeat of a mountain.

As his wolf voice touches an ice crystal
love becomes the red juice stain on a child's T-shirt.

Perhaps that is how our fog gathers
in one place to have central gravitation.

silence screened
a wisk of suffusion
cold confusion

this bright winter
haze deemed
unrepentant and
strong
lets fleeting little
blossoms
un tethered
settle free

blond fields
and rushes
bending
the ice
support the
inches gaining
of drifting promises
an angel of winter

There are those who sit
at the edge of the dance,
watching the whirl
of the living

Hub and spoke
Spoken wheel

The dance lingers
in their hearts
Years beyond
the fiddlers last draw.