January 26, 2019

beneath the raw sky
too blue for this day
Howlin’ Wolf is you

January 25, 2019

record halts its spin
wind chimes and jays form chorus
drinking golden light

pulling leaves from
abandoned clover fields
caterpillars sleep

sliver of gold thread
the stains of calla lillies
brush across my lips

we drown upon this
premeditated trapeze
weaving sound and light

clean lines broken by
nights of forgotten silence
always beginning

midnight speaks a lie
the heavens are not useful
if I die before