Units of Time

August 15, 2012

When the Preseids passed over us,

no matter the direction,

or the location…

no, it does not matter.

 

[it is day]

 

The depth of non of it matters:

Flowers gamboge yellow.

The way the sun fell on your head.

The beauty of the shape of your legs and feet,

as you kept looking up.

 

[it is dark again]

 

Whether our eyes meet on the plains of Cygnus or Lyra,

it does not matter:

Which town you see the sky from,

as it falls around you.

The constellation Cygnus

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Mind/Body Problem

August 15, 2012

Sometimes my heart is so heavy it hurts to breath.

Summertime Classic

August 2, 2012

Shimmering toe heads,

in the burnt sienna nudity of youth

ribboned with gradations,

from dark to light.

 

In a fortress of trees

that smell of watermelon,

light moves and shifts,

light shutters and twists.

 

A chestnut of laughter

presented in bubbles,

softer than a lambs lip.

 

In a vastness

that is endless,

and presented

only for the littlest

little hands.