A woman with long brown hair stands behind a door with a torn screen. She’s late thirties. Her yellow silk blouse billows to Woodstock jeans. A beagle sleeps on the landing below her three-step stairway. Her home is a nailed rectangle made from the bodies of trees. Weeds sprout from cement. Pots of lavender flank […]
How fast the sun arrives And disappears, its arc Belongs to yesterday As whiskey and cigarettes Future forward. The night turns to lust To keep the darkness out. We are addicted to The warmth of bodies Genuflecting bedposts, Praying we survive The heat of battle Until light brings A cold tomorrow.
30 Years Between Letters Words from an old flame Sunrise the past The time of immortality When the future Was not reduced But expansive as ocean At sunset Where you embraced In a green flash You would never see again And believed in fire Beyond the sea of shadows.