Tuesday, February 2, 2010


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Big hand, little hand
out of love, out of fear
... out of danger.

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The crows finish
bitter winds, bitter rains
... black tree.

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Three angry crows
heading west, cutting lines
... falling out.

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Dead sparrow
not a wind, not a sound
... not a drop.

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Her letters
her words, her hand
... in mine.

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The child -
the sycamore's shadow
beyond the fence.

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Old walls
cracking voices
... turning pages.

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Cold night
the dusted moonlight
... candy meadow.


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Steaming the cold
with our noses, and we laugh
... like dragons.

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