windrag : poetry : journal

:: f : w : i : w ::

Category: poem

deposit

this is where we find ourselves: broken reeds gather at the high tide line.

as it flies

spring night, searching for the full moon… a meteor! then two! sweet failure!

housework

the taste of spring rain is enough to remind me to keep it simple.

pause

lungfuls of sweet jasmine… disaster, averted at every turn—how long? above a single moth-hum, the full moon: resplendent through the clouds.

gs & ag

they grasped their time. i do not grasp my time. i grasp the brush, and brush my teeth, and memorize the song we’ll sing tomorrow, “spring has just begun.”