windrag : poetry : journal

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 thatmade me what i am–so fewof them are clever.

distracted. the treesin my neighborhood are deepin conversation.

i’ve counted the books of poems in my house, and the spiders. good ratio.

i hope that when whoever is buyingaccesses my personal datathe message is clear:i love my peopleand i don’t care who knows.