Spring breeze

I fed my childhood to the wind 

And watched as it fluttered away

On the spring breeze

Soft as the young buds

The yellow dandelion winked at me

And the green translucent buds waved

As they swallow up those pages

Hold them inside their walls

Cleansing them

And soon

When they darken into summer hues

I can look inside every flower 

And see myself

Caught within the wall

Calling calling calling

Up I call

The hair loose at the end of a braid

Made of chestnut silk

Wrapped up where I call

In the sound of breath

I find a memory

Hidden in some treasure chest

Buried under sand

Marked with an ‘X’

Calling calling calling

Talent for unreasonable words

A delicate hand laid on steel

An emerald glints with delight

Green of envy, grey of sky

Caught up while I call

Voice caught within the walls

Trembling I cry

The shadows have turned vicious

The creaks their accomplice

I am 

Calling calling calling

While the night washes over me

Sailor

We start to wonder

What little stars within ourselves

Have flickered off and said goodnight

To ail our aching heads.

A sudden ship—

Within an open Black Sea

Sends up a silent flare

Hoping to be seen

But a light among darkness

Is still as quiet as a gem

So in the open vastness

I will find my solace

Inside my silent stars

Off-kilter

When uncertainty strikes

And the tension rises

Dislocating air in your lungs

And every breath is shallow

You feel as if on a sea in a storm,

A splattering of raindrops on glass

The air cutting sharply through corners

And you feel as if the ground

Is not your own,

Is something living, breathing

The ground has stolen the air from your lungs

And stored it in the pockets of the floor

And now you drift, slowly

As if carried by waves

Into an ocean of dark blue nothing

Stranded.

Consciousness

archway into clinical silence, 

beginning with a solitary glint of sun,

the noiseless ruin of

consciousness,

i sit alone

feeling the us-ness of 

the ions,

bounding in my skin.

Blinking lights

Wind howling

Notes written on papered leaves

The light black sky/ looks shadow-like

And raindrops line the glass 

Empty white walls that meet

Seeking a lonesome existence

Sharp edges/ limitless

I turn my palms over my eyes

And block out the electricity

Dreary urban notes sing from streets

Focused inward, made complete.