windrag : poetry : journal

:: f : w : i : w ::


a better one than i would hear the insects 
 with voices quieter than trains, in town, 
 at bedtime. nevertheless, the trainsongs give 
 my heart the kiss of sleep.


note to self: songs that
made me what i am–so few
of them are clever.


distracted. the trees
in my neighborhood are deep
in conversation.

balance ii

i’ve counted the books

of poems in my house, and the

spiders. good ratio.

you are the product

i hope that when whoever is buying
accesses my personal data
the message is clear:
i love my people
and i don’t care who knows.