all the shouted
news finding ways back
to silence
all the shouted
news finding ways back
to silence
though no footfall is
seismic, your being here
is known
surprise—unreeling
tape, rope, or time never
really loops
imagine snow—
the smell just before it falls—
as smiles starting
wheeling dreams—
nocturnal sorts—swishing in
a black cup of sky
a sheaf of wheat
leaning upon itself—gusts
battering
some unlocked something—
green and red memory
tripping tumblers
they’re now stories—rays
without suns—hearts of light
beaming anyway
a dropped Starbucks—
red and green cup crushed, frozen,
spread like a star
some stirred mystery
bubbles through numbers—odd air
erupting inside