wind's dark poem

voice of wind

sounded like words

whispering a spell on me

until i heard

now i see shapes in the low light

the earth quakes in the twilight

i see flames in my calm life

i hear the wind's dark poem: you can see from above

the rocks sticking out of

the yard behind the house make stone constellations

half-buried in the dusk

the unformed stories

coming to life while i sleep

the breath moves branches saying words that i

don't know

a new poem

a song i sang in a dream

the lights of town faint

something is exhaling in the sound of traffic

far away. something's happening

wind's dark poem describes

calligraphy of branches writes

stone constellation alive

the house is built on a boulder

soil returns to the wind

bones will blow in pink light

the distant sound is saying my name

the wind is taking pieces

wind's dark poem is about the constantly roaring

decay

the destruction of every day

and every morning's waking

but: even as spring is bringing

blossoms back among leaves

the cold wind blows when night falls

and the bare branches bend