my self : the muse

Month: December, 2011

toes pointing at the moon

that far shore
bare feet
will suffice
the boat —
needs nothing
of me
nor I
of it
from here
it can go its way
and I’ll go mine
— straight on
alone once more



another morning well-spent

sipping coffee

while some God bakes

puffed clouds


pink explosions

— donuts of the mind

as below

a single white bird

in pre-dawn

grey-blue beginnings

rises above

some rivers of headlights

and the crush of progress

still, the sun sits

while we spin

and clouds amble on

refracting hints

of time passing

and the white bird

taking its rest


between these words

thoughts vanish

a hard rain throwing dust


just this —
an unhinged shutter
banging open