Wednesday, April 20, 2011


you are the wind

are the notes

I am singing

you, the wind


to singing

you are

the voice

am I speaking

to you, the wind?

are you listening?

the channel is flush with flow and flux

my wind will blow through and through

the sea is blue and black my child

my river

is red, when she runs

when she leaves me

my son will shine

the paint will dry

when you are gone

the wind will moan

am I wet?

dying or sleeping or somewhere

close, yet distantly off the street

the river we’ll cross

where we will meet

in the center

at death

are you a sharp corner

am I stone?

should we cry to the open eyes

of atmosphere

the lids of space containing us?

can I simplify my pattern?


I am the trunk, the bark and branches,


you are the wind, the air, the river, sweet whispers and love

is the song

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