Poem 4
Skyward this leaf unfurls its damp providence
Looking about sideways
My self at the edge seems
Clouded
Where the corners frankly fudge all thumbs
An expeditionary vapor
Transforms waves and particles
That swell the light in unexpected ways
Salt water huffs the smell of rotting fish
With every lasting ply
Reflecting in a way
Being backwards
The same buffeted surface
Facing me
Turns over in a tide
While cycles below
Square off
Poem 9
Morning hikes some new mischief
Sunrise is simply told
Roly-polying a well worn path
From hereafter to thereafter
One foot in front of the other
More or less delegating
Every other step taken
Since the beginning of time
You see how the wilt waits
whiling down the ebullient blue-gray evening hem
Stowed about the
Creases of this doughy half-cast hypnagogy
Waking is an effortless string looped about her ankle
So she would not float off into space
Fare welling us all with a perfect look
Of insolent surprise
