the stone children
faces so serene
hands raised
speaking the dharma
little round heads
unable to feel the cold
like i do
i reflect your smile
floating and leaving no trace
the stone children
faces so serene
hands raised
speaking the dharma
little round heads
unable to feel the cold
like i do
i reflect your smile
why?
–why not?
should i?
–you should.
when?
–now.
like this?
–yes.
and now?
–more.
the cat tried to come
between my wife’s hug and me
–lady or tiger?
two cups, jasmine tea
red border decorates one
second, plain but full
the secret to breathing properly
is to imagine the lungs
expanding beyond capacity
as they fill with air
as they fill with the air
breathed out
by people you know–
the ones you work with
the ones you live with
the ones you love
the ones you hate
and those you don’t know–
the dead who breathed these same atoms
years-decades-centuries-millennia ago
fill your lungs with the air
that the dinosaurs sucked in
when the comet hurtled toward them
they all breathed out at once
a world-wide gasp
fill your lungs
and don’t let it out
let it stay inside of you
and become like smoke
in your alveoli
and only let it seep out
through your pores
the wind pushed the sand
into my eyes
and made it so i
couldn’t see
not you
not where i was going
i could hear footfalls
and glimpse the shadows of shapes
moving through a storm
that peeled off my skin
each grain a surgeon’s blade
when the wind stopped
my eyes were empty sockets
but i could see
and i was dry bones
but i could walk
and the sand
had submerged under a sea
of deepest green
and the ocean moaned
a single word
or was it a whisper
standing in the wind
the sun is kind enough to
warm my back–thank you
enough wind
enough to lift us like kites
to raise us
and we soar like birds
enough sun
to warm our backs
just enough gravity
to draw us back
to earth
in the dark–lamplit,
like dust mites in window light
the rain falls, a mist
you hold me
when i am coming apart
when i break you fill the seams
with gold
there are pieces missing
but you light a candle
inside me
light streams out
where my pieces are absent
though empty i am full of light