(written to a Welsh meter) gilded leaves chasea windfall's graceto fill the spacewhere summer lieswith last birds' songour nights grow longand dreams belongto stars and eyeswhere in the bluelight, the last fewwords I know truefloat rive

really! today! & thought:"cheesy" should be neither thatnor the too-tan old man called so by a supermodel in a bikini between cable shows - "cheesy" is Alfredo's Noodles made from Fanny Farmer, all cream butter & grate

The car is at the end of the driveway it can be put in reverse – scream a right around the corner. If I’m grown up enough I can drive to the Grand Canyon or the other ocean before anyone says “stop!” Driving fast enough,

I shudder in a church of leaves he who knew me once might write a book of blossoms the north wind comes down to rattle occasions left wanting after the first frost glassifies pears on low, heavy branches sweet still for the moment Orion at dawn fe

you sleep clouded with raincupping the night in your handsthe elfin beat of starshinetangling hair, deciding which card to playfor now we are secured &locked into languorousnesslittle rabbits beneath the stalactitesof bluish waters, love letting