Bird in Cage

Bird In Cage My heart empties, A trapped nightingale With drooping neck Leaping to survive In a windowsill, Fluttering without cease Against the glass, Not panicking, Unafraid to die, Except to feel The final cut To feeling’s artery, Dropping feathers From injured wings, Barred from soaring Runaway with delight Among the blooming Jubilant sassafras trees […]

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Glitch in this moment I see nearly sundown blue birds pirouetting into the crabapple thicket near the cinnamon-red fields where I am still as a silver snake coiled in frail grass liberally waving seed in orange breezes like ornaments burning in ripples over a field of textile while the cooling marine sky wraps its clear

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I Waited

I Waited In wind, through rain, and cold, wearing the insignia of a hat alone, I waited so long outside your window careless of the dark night’s caress that I was burned by the light of the moon, in darkness a superficial wound that in daylight is an understanding I might never fully possess.

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Skirmishing with the Singularity

Skirmishing With The Singularity “We cannot know the present in all its details.” — W. Heisenberg In the current present the solstice light uncoils like rhythm out of continuous sky on legato wings skimming the Big Bang in a transitive beat such that if day is larger than night and spring larger than day then

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Text Messaging Childhood

Text Messaging ‘Childhood’ feeling like an old school pundit today I return the term ‘childhood’ to its place in the paper dictionary where it has eased into permanent disuse done tarrying on the page year by year under time’s invisible revolving lathe of thievery that by indefatigable work worries without reprieve the hardbound bindings of

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The Colossus of Hostas

The Colossus of Hostas that October drowned by the sounds of rain I worried were the preternatural hum of global warming time unmoored and drifted as revered as air in a history museum while across the backyard Fall dis-inhabited the world dissolved in water ever rapping on the knapped roof billowing over the swamped yard

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The Edge

The Edge Through the wilderness Slashes the curtain of wind, Pulling after across before, Its purposelessness birthed Far away, kicking up snow in distant hills, Its mindless edge now Bowing spotted cattail blooms Into the scalloped surface Of Timberwolfe Lake. It caterwauls out of the silence, Epees swishing without intelligence Through the pine thickets, Raking,

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