his death the white smirks
and black laughter of darkness
ignore him and head towards
the shadows
one stray thought seeks the nutrients
of neither how nor why but clues
to answer the final question
Will it be paradise?
his broken reflection disappears
into the shattered glass
swept away by time
so far no one’s found
any piece of the puzzle
eyes open the overhead fan wobbles in the gloom if I could only pull the chain blow the minutes and hours out the open window or beg the sun to come early and kick that moon over the mountain my head
while searching for you in that single light of one memory among all those shades of gray I’m confounded by the mist and clouds of an all-day rain then I see it and reach for it that flash in the wate
you see the way that tree reaches towards the sky? for many seasons that was me stretching to heaven with feet rooted in earth awaiting the rains of grace to grow me higher till one day a woodsman app