love
regardless of the
season, the wind and the pine
groom one another.
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.
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.
lungfuls of sweet jasmine… disaster,
averted at every turn—how long?
above a single moth-hum, the full moon:
resplendent through the clouds.