from 2004
VI.
we are so fragile that the next breeze may hurl us away
to never know each other
or that, like ghosts, we pass through
with only a shiver to remind us of all we have forgotten
our wisdom grows in slow time
deep beneath the surfaces of life
V.
there is beauty in a grey horizon
and in a broken bottle
and in a pothole filled with muddy rain
all things dream
and are dreamt in turn by others
IV.
today I play a mad prophet
casting nets and webs and snares into the ether
when they come back empty I am satisfied
(you can tell by the gleeful cackling)
III.
amidst strange eyes and empty conversations
a rope twists skyward off a single dangling cigarette
it pulls me up to safety
II.
torn by tenderness
we rest in the crook of a leafless tree
I.
fragility sustains us like smoke rising above a fire