First, it is only that the tree

is more a presence

less a shadow

beyond my window

then other horizons

light their resting clouds

with a subtle pre-dawn glow

that slowly sets the first gold sun glint

on each high branch above

against a new pale blue sky -

will dawn chasten my succubus

end our companioned time?

that half-felt fragile warmth beside me

seems to s...

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I weep for his skills:

                the perfect crafting

                of the calligraphy

She sighed, "Forge me the seal of our love"

She sighed, "Render yourself to me"

She sighed, "I am your vellum"

I weep for her artistry

He saw the curves, the loops, the cursive strokes:

                flow smoothly from his nib

                harmoniously

  ...

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                                    After Ezra Pound and Giacomo Leopardi

And so you were

everything to me, that is now less than dust –

                        lost, captive of the soil

That surrounds and nourishes my soul.

And so now I –

still stranded, umbral shade of past desire – 

                        left, am guardian of sad recall

watching branch and blo...

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