Category: Fantasy
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So cold the sky
waves roll in, tossed over themselves by November winds that scrape surface up and over, up and over, coil under clouds, moan through cedars, find me here, damp, burying the roots of this sapling today as if in a ceremony of dark days, bewitched by the sky long turned cold and forceful, my magic increases…
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My window at night ix
no sound fuller than the wind tossing leaves up and over and against our window screen as we lie here, breeze smoothing our shoulders retreating, surrendering at long last
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Day 10
I dreamt of Franko last night; we slipped together easy, sighing hard, and watched an old woman die dancing bold in the next room
Poems from in between 