line breaks

I awoke unable to remember
how or why we write poems

or make these line breaks

alerting us to another way
of reading and seeing

now I remember

meanwhile rainwater
collecting in buckets
shone like something holy

[first posted 17 Jan 2015]

cave drawings

this morning I sharpened my pencil
in expectation of words

little boats came instead
while antelope gathered
upon a white hill
to stare – cave drawings
from I don’t know where

I would rather have had words

[first posted 31 May 2015]

lighter 

the old man had lost something
of inestimable worth
more precious than he could ever say

now his burden felt a little lighter
a little lighter
as he went upon his way

(first posted 3 Feb. 2016)

a clear sky

you taught me a lot
and lit a fire in the snow

under the dovecote
a rook comes and goes

from a clear sky

and you sent me a photo
of a white candlestick

I keep on my wall
it reminds me often

of home

howl

dog on the bed
like a polar landmass in the spring
I would give anything
to be like you
yours is an empire of the skin
mine the meandering way within
an island off the compass of the world
go howl your howl
let it be heard

[first posted 1 Jan 2017]

the valley

sitting on the bed
notebook raised to the rough angle
of the ridge opposite
where the orange cubes of a new estate
have sprung up against the skyline
I recall another time
I sketched houses in distraction
as one parent raged against the other
in the summer vacation
before they parted

I shouldn’t have started
the light diminishes – evening comes early

evening comes early to all of us
who dwell in the valley

[first posted 26 March 2015]

default lines

the day defaults
upon the dark trudge home
I turn my collar to the night
find no message on my phone
think of Robert Frost
as the last street light is passed
weigh good against indifferent
and find the case is lost

the day defaults
to nothing very clear
beyond a bowl of peanuts
and a glass or two of beer
but when I think back
put some distance to my sight
I find that in the darkness
came a different kind of light

[first posted 26 March 2015]

a flutter of wings

bridge between two islands

a place of meeting
and of tryst

touching
and desiring
and doing without 

things are not the same
now

I garden

read

never looking up

even at
a flutter of wings