windrag : poetry : journal

:: f : w : i : w ::

Category: poem

fresh air

new moon stillness permeates the body breath, the loudest wind in town heartsong, trainsong, birdsong, morningsong louder than any memory

a round

sun draws wet through trunks trunks firm ooze breath breath fills sky feeds love love fuels sun

walk button

it used to be, days like this, i’d go around shirtless or nearly so, with cutoff sleeves sporting my greyhound tattoo, in love with my friendliness ready for anything. clueless

old habits

if not my mother’s uncle, and his oxygen-bottle nor robert creeley’s failing breath then maybe your voice, hollering above me, old crow and the jasmine perfuming the gate

pitter patter

hot water in a pint glass. piles of laundry melodies and vocables half-read books of poems. pop’s old mustard sweater. lingering doubt