26 December 2007

My eye was traitor to my affection,
And with sly inversion turned my object's spy.
My subdivisions, winter-tree'd ravens,
Were figments. As hers.
Unmuffle the bell;
And ribboned tree, and open eye.

18 December 2007

A blank screen electric,
Bitter, snow-crust field
Night-set, wind-flat frame
Of a thing sustained
Without a cold-eyed trace.
Still--below--a stratum shift
In now light or next dark:
A new-boundaried state.

14 December 2007

This article is undone to expose
The line of your neck, and time's;
Slender and grave both
And each.
The strain of an hour's reverse and addition
Is diminished by the fine-haired arc;
Yet, pause: an emblem may suffice.



09 December 2007

In the aftermath of day, by the sun's staircase
Lettering down ink-blot cloud,
The symbols fade fine-veined
And in darkness seeping the star steps from
The runner's edge, done:
Event and eye, one.

05 December 2007

It is no thing to understand
Nor thought nor manner
Nor device unmattered
For discretion's sake.
No: tis that ever-unfixed mark,
Motion's measure in slant sense stood.

01 December 2007

In primitive without thought
Of stars underfoot, the silica grains,
The unsyllabled all between our toes--
And in the sun-bent grass the arc of time--
Our eyes on the blue-ruled edge.


24 November 2007

The leaves are a thing to lose,
The lawn of yellow points.
Un-image a measure of days,
A season distempered both
In time's gray subsequence
And a separation all-ordained, unseen.

18 November 2007


In the autumn street of leaves
'Dressed, posted, returned--
Nature's speculation's done.
Hued brevity now, underfoot slid, wind moved
As we, unvolitioned in love's season.

11 November 2007


Dawn's light solitude
In comfort chill and robed thought
And spotted pane accompany,
Turns isolation's stiff yeared
Unbellied cat in hall darkness,
And blind lashed, streaked and dusty sill.

05 November 2007

In approximation,
The moment rounded with a scud
Of low concern and cloud--
The misfiled, the blotted
Sun running in monochrome seams,
A striated score to this arc of day.
A plainsong of air, of nothing
In silence, and surprise.