posted September 06, 2006 12:40 AM         

soft denim blooms in the fray

a desk in the middle of the floor akimbo
and languid downcast flowers wilt
their petals drop to rest beside an inkstand

carved trunks revealing faces

so many shavings of pine,
sandals, sawdust-covered screws and spaces
crumpled angels cut from paper
dried orange peels half-draped in sands

my head is heavyladen with days, with suns,
there is a mystery beating in silence
rumblingly the sounds retreat somewhere
like childrens' footfalls down the hall
or the ocean in a shell

lost strains of conversation sailing
winds that taught the leaves to titter
sickly and honest, the tide of nights
common words consecrated by whispers

her whiskers touched your hand as they passed

and now the gentle breeze you fight
caught in dreamy undertoes
the draft curls your neck -
like an inchworm when you touch it
or certain reeds that
cast in a fire
shrivel and furl
until soundlessly they burst
born on a hot current of smoke
through the air and into the night