I fill my lungs with air — feel something strange
in there — akin to childhood — a winding stair that clouds
of dream obscure — or an azure tree of stars — fruit ripe
and sure — of one — last — reckoning
February 18, 2020
[ 671 ]
I fill my lungs with air — feel something strange
in there — akin to childhood — a winding stair that clouds
of dream obscure — or an azure tree of stars — fruit ripe
and sure — of one — last — reckoning
February 18, 2020
[ 671 ]
Sunday evening and the house is calm, the voices have returned to the street and their bodies have followed them, their bodies have gone to the stars, gone to the moss on the sidewalks and cushioned retaining walls, to the dogwood leaves on the ground and the soft velvet cedar, padding on dark wild feet with sharp nails exposed to the frost, where the owl shakes down a wealth of […]
Done in 2009, Nightfall is also part of Primitive, a glossy volume released the following year. [ 105 ]