White Heron

Sinuous, curving neck, full breast, long legs reach into the harbor's edge Obsidian eyes bottomless, a tunnel without end Seeking Along rocky shore, slow filling harbor a mirror capturing grace, clouds doubled, scudding across a fecund sea You strike, down, mouth agape, gasping, rippling the mirror, body shooting forward, head buried in sea and sky … Continue reading White Heron

The First

The first kiss,and you as a conductor, your fingers pulling at mine,onto the train and into the night,curving over mountains, through tunnels Steam turning electric,currents passing through me, burning and blindingyour fingers curled in mine,a journey without end

tremble

your breath with mine your fingers in mine tremble the illicit heat the catching passion this public space this intimate touch tremble your back arching under my palm that presses, pushes guides and holds you neck straining under my mouth, aching your motions, your cries tremble the flushing skin, the nails in skin. release tremble

A Ballerina, On a Shaking Shore

for W. C. Williams, and some others There is a flickering of midnight torches along the edges of Atlantic beaches, these shuttering retreats, ghosted fall houses of Eastham, Wellfleet's quiet drive-in, Truro's barque emerging above the waterline. Oh, Newman, what bitter jokes, and shambling hallos you wave, across a rocky continent, toes that know Pacifica … Continue reading A Ballerina, On a Shaking Shore

Horse Hair Skier

Your nails still refuse to drag along my skin. Snow leopard. You... Your nails retracted, tongue curled, folded. Padding away into a mountains dark crevices. Where I, kokburu player, goat tosser extraordinaire, mad skier across Tuvan skies, lasso in hand and elk before me... am still not allowed to pursue. My rope whipping out, unanswered, quivering, inept.

“Stay”

What is the edge of love? One moment, solid ground. Then something... lost. Water rising through the earth this shifting landscape. That threshold of sleep, that hidden threshold. Is it water, contained by only dry continents... then, destroying their edges? Lapping. Eating Owning. The shore, a watery, drifting place... (a perfect toe dipped in. cool. … Continue reading “Stay”