spiderweb silk

suddenly i've become

the puppeteer

A midsummer night

underneath this rose moon,

I'll wait for you . . . 

until my hands are bloodied

from holding back the dawn.

moonset

a sudden vastness 

between stars

sweet scented breeze

before you came to cool me,

what did you caress?

that I may know the flower

by another woman's name

the cloud

today it brings me

a part of africa

cold cemetery

the long sleeves of your old coat

warm my fingertips

even from beyond this grave

you manage to comfort me

mountain slate

the colour of the sound

spring rain makes

if only there were

a way I could capture fog

in a pretty jar,

to leave on your doorstep

and watch you open it

after its first flight

the young gerfalcons talons

tighter on my glove

it's the way

love has been lifting me

higher and higher

that I, being so inspired

shall write of galaxies