My Light

 

Here comes light:

through the hole in the floor

and the crack in the door

ajar at night.

 

Here comes light:

through the slit in the board

and the knot in the cord

tensioned too tight.

 

Here comes light:

in the gaps among clouds

and spaces in crowds

cowering in fright.

 

Here comes light:

from the dark of the moon

eclipse at high noon.

This is my light.

Keeping House

                                 I.

Our dream awakes as tangled, knotted string

on pounded stakes of branches broke and stacked

like game sticks where the ground slopes off .

To: Literature, Inc.

I am skipping

12-point manuscripts, triple spaced

Mr. David Austin's Hardy Rose

thought no good in cold

and bought for more than cost

Nested Boxes

That old indifferent pervert with his ice

Snow Piece

bars up, down, the sky 

these solstice days:

Patterns

Beyond the saplings’ underbark

Seasonal Affective Conversation

We have here, she says, only one sun in the month.

Men in My House

It is not
up toilet seats

Making love with a poem,

you come too close to watch