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Here Again

morning begins
to soften
outside

i wait for you
cold hands
light gathering
with the dust
of the growing hours

there is nothing in me
that is not already soft
and brittle

feel the leaves slip
on the pavement
touching new words with
a covered breath

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Passing Time

he writes
of the sun shifting
through the narrow grass
the curve of her body
moving with the sound
of a sigh

a cold rain gathers
bringing night
to the waking room

the pale shadows
on the table
hold the movement
of his empty hand

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New Apartment

the windows open
to the sound of rain

i hear your voice echo
in the other room

morning begins
with a muted fire

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Standing on a Balcony

midnight buries
a half moon

below her
the sidewalk seems
to shimmer in
the dim light

voices meet
hand to
awkward hand

she hesitates
lingering to watch
the snow fall

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Insomnia

the smell of smoke drifts
from the burning mountains

your breath moving
the strands of my hair

new light touches
the corner 
of the bedside table
and tells me 
what i don't remember

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Visiting Hours

rain again tonight.
light scatters
on the  pavement
like glass

i remember
the broad
curve of the river
keeping time
with the windows
of the train

i watched you
watch the water pass,
one palm curled
around the shadow
of your wrist

i was waiting then, too

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Changes

the mountains
are growing
green again

i know the bend
of your hand now
daylight gathers
into a slow burn
and i am not ready
for sleep

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Summer Poem

summer pulls
the curling
length 
of her hair

leaves whisper
with a blossomed
voice

tonight the moon
has a fingernail's
edge

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Driving in a Snowstorm

i miss the silence
of your empty
hand

you drive
your face breathing
a white
light into the dark

the snow
falling like ash
on the road

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To the Woman By the Window

summer
turns with
the aging leaves

she carries
her days
on the bend 
of her shoulder

the drifting
weight of the morning
curls with the smoke
of her cigarette

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January

winter
follows me
here

under
the creeping snow
shadows move
with the sound
of yellowed leaves

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Loss

sometimes
i remember you
in the restless hours
when the night follows
the waking quiet
and the summer
is too slow
to come

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