scrawlings

time is water
dripping into the void
nothing pools
the source is unbounded
we travel down
descent is the only reality
both infinite and nil

rates of descent
are variable

but falling is the only option
time has no anchors for rappel

the only foothold
the eternal now

we caress the hours
minutes inch through our grasps
like harlequin silk scarves

all around it is drab wadmol
in a tug-of-war

we slide through their measures
and arrive easy of breath

now your sleep fills
and warms my room
as i soften the morning
with a few words

going to go past these words
and then it is the going past
you must pass

it is quiet here
but in this quiet a million voices

the holidays fall around us like warm leaves
and many cannot stand the clutter

i jump into the pile
enveloped in the rustlings

and all those on the sidelines, frowning
i reach out to, and if i can snag

pull them headlong into the season

my kitty looks older this dark rainy fall morning
i’ve been thinking about her passing on a lot lately
her face seems to be more pointed
straight arrow unto death

*

brake-lights
yellow shell and neon do-nuts signs
reflect in the wet black road

*

on my way to work with the heater.
the smell of heat and wet pavement

*

green reflects everywhere
and it spiders in the multitude of drops on my windshield

heidegger said death is the most
certain possibility
with the way things are going that
might become less certain

*

i like the way my kitty’s
hair curls right behind her ears
and how her orange spots are striped

Mneme

Cobble my woes and brick my lanes
that lead
not followed I finally meet you
again

*

Where we forgot to trade our demons
for quiet buzzes in quiet attics

*

I can hear the rain on the tiles
it sings a morse song
that wets my heart
and leadens my eyelids

leaves dressed in fall colors while
i was asleep
dreaming of biking in the rain
close to home but in a strange
village where no one had heard of my home town
just all those around it
they kept locking up my bike
when i left it unattended
even though i kept making fun of their ways

*

i breathed a pother of their world
and awoke