windrag : poetry : journal

:: f : w : i : w ::


meeting his deadline,
bach conducts from the organ.
the rest is old news.


regardless of the
season, the wind and the pine
groom one another.


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!


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