We listen to the voicethat says grass and starsthe voice that knows perfectlyhow to describe luminescence. We wait patiently onthe foothold of Marchto see early crocusand daffodils pushingthrough earth’s cold skin. We remember soft slippersawait us at the foot of the bed. The moon and sun rise againand again in the eternal blanket of heavenas…
Literary
I Have Yet to See
too many starstheir vastness pricksmy skin with wonderment Perhaps in another lifeI will be an astronomerand know their namesor perhaps an astronautwho will land on the moon I will eat from her extraordinarylightness then becomea star hanging inthe limitless sky.
Poetry
A Poem for the Light and the Beautiful Dark
Autumn Light lengthening shadowsdiscard bright lightstore it in acupboard for next June what I notice andpause to studyare narrators ofa fresh storyunfolding in pebbled graveldried grassand moon’s play on stone.