Day 24
November 30th, 2009winter time
moments ago
we
played peek-a-boo,
honeyed light
day’s possibilities endless
but
now
nurse quietly in
violet shadow.
winter time
moments ago
we
played peek-a-boo,
honeyed light
day’s possibilities endless
but
now
nurse quietly in
violet shadow.
loop
My child will not
will not
will not
sleep
So
spin, spin, spins
the drill,
the screw
of my mind
stripped,
its threads
(sanity)
sheared.
to taste
your shoulder
to wake to
filtered grey
light,
angora.
weekday
the scent of morning
still lies in your hair,
slumbers late,
boiling
water over loose tea.
lost soul
abandoned kitten
roam
downtown
ditches
claw a
crinkled candy wrapper
cry your wet coat
your jeans
the gutter
canadian connotations
if
tundra
is a poem
then why not
tuque
portrait of that guy
Jesus, at party: beret, Hawaiian shirt, thick wool slippers.
Jigged table-top,
drank cheap beer,
hee-hawed
his own
jokes.
I thought, bad taste.
Through the Valley of Baca; Psalm 84
Walk the rain,
Soul
Until weary feet,
a warm place.
Peel away wet socks,
weighted shoes.
Books by fire,
friends
you may read.
Wake to white-
winter sun
skis
a snow milk
sky.
Meditation in Side-Stroke
Arms stretch above
as if
pluck a red apple.
Legs
scissor, slice.
To swim in silence
is to
taste the ripe triangle,
tangy and sweet.