Spike
Traveling light
over the wet grass
out to the clearing
past the highway,
our bare feet
tank the cold
to take our steps.
Burning Days
The water so clear
I cannot escape
the riverbank.
Out here on my own
with everyone looking.
Dogs crawl in the thorns
and whirlwinds
spun by helicopters
over them.
Harvest Night
A few words on my tired eyes
is all she says to me
standing by the drink machine
near the cracked mirror
nailed all crooked
in the hallway.
Cable
Lotto tickets scattered
in the street,
all losers to be sure,
but there’s a hitter
out there somewhere
in the branches.
Nullify
Lost possessions seek
light and repair
from dusted corners
where spiders tread on
broken glass and chains.
Get Your Feet Right
Sheep chew grass
by barbed wire
not sensing anything
just staring into space.
Nowhere
Her cigarette burned blue,
while she flipped through
some old magazine,
laying on her chest
there on the couch,
when I asked her
why she threw away
her phone.
Heap
Red clouds glide
over the valley
where my city
steeps in rivers
high from rain.
As All the Blood Dries
The year moves
like a curtain with
the window cracked
or shimmers
at the bottom
of a pool.
Crossing
The concrete barriers
at the edges of the bridge
lost so much of themselves.
Chunks fallen to the river
become gravel and sand
over seasons passed over
by the current.
