For A Golden Day

For a golden day

a little cold air drifts in,

paying cold thoughts
to walk away

From skeletons waving
through glass memory leaves

Glancing underneath bells' song
in time to hear the screeching earth 
return

Slate wiry fingers curl, whirl
circles in the wind
around weariness

Moment More

Flame breathes, grasping vivid hue
to realize past disguise
beneath flowering trees

Combined stories
thrive
diving, holding steady

Does a moment hold more quiet journeys fair?

Where green ground
surrenders
to cool breezes

Flowing away from turning mills
churning up the air
  

Besought

Doubt threads the altered course,
a cool blue haze

Losing ground
underneath forest green songs
of comfort fleeting,
eyes raised beseeching

For cleaner air
to cleanse all doubt
of its willful stain

Love Haiku

Jagged, rare footholds

love is a vertical climb
for faint hearts yet to know

Postage

Weighed
the scale of yesterday
digitally calculates
what it takes

To get over the broken street
buckled by the heat

Can't mail back
a return for lack,
stamped
"insufficient postage"

Weighed
by the scale of yesterday
  

Hushed

By its rays we move,
yet never gaze
as it tattoos
circles on the skin

Sun's light
on the waves'
rhythm
timed
with heart's calmed beat

Of the earth we are, yet mostly waves
Waters moving
through us, with us

How can it be
so suddenly
our dusty bones slow
barren

left thirsting
till finally breathless

Our waters, as the Arctic,
hushed
  

That Leering Edge

Ten complete,
times three

Roughly
sails toppled,
winds whipped
across watery eyes

The edge of one more midnight mirror
leering
along its fierce track

Eight more, falling, falling
staring back
  

Only Sounds

Silent slide
Thoughts deride the hours

Separate steps stride across a bridge
melting into swept sands

Bare echoes stream
in dark-blue waves

Consume
any room for hands raised

Cool smooth stones
filter comments
over and over,
smoother and smoother

Till words become
only sounds

Where the Memory

Where the memory lives
double bladed
silver plated days

Winter snows,
shade or shadow

Falling with the moonlight

Darkness covering its beam
so soon

Clay

Formed clay
cooling far too quickly
beckons return to dust

  

Gallery

In the gallery
spaces pull
random hours
along the muralled walls

chiseling outlines
in freedom

Hands rest
dreaming
of the stranger who sees

Stranger things
happen every dark day
like today