Three Streams

Longing

I smell your voice
in the warm summer night
the thick smoke hewn weight of it
laughing through the air
a brother to the darkness
is this place of dreams
this time of all times
and none

Youth’s Last Night

the forfeits
fought and died for
dead soldiers line the walk,
wasn’t that a party
that time that time forgot
and so have I
only the chill of the hour
seeping up my legs
my hems wet with
dawn’s dews


Matter Horn

shattered and shorn,
sleep tattered torn,
worn with spatters of bloody dreams
revealing futures fled
and pasts unseen
like the dimlit path that guides me
onward asleep to you
oh hold me love
and let the dark be our all
it is all I have left
a prayer, a spell
unchanted