Available Space

 

 

 

9 planets – & not an Eros 

or Cupid among them.

 

 

But we still have 

2 homes for Mars.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

Pitter Patter

 

 

The universal tent is the sky.

Our camp is underneath it.

Rain hits it a thousand times, over a thousand times.

We are crowded.

Sadness is contagious.

Sadness spreads like the sky.

Sadness spreads like a philosophy.

These are not the ramblings of a crazy man.

I am awake.  

It is 

The pitter patter.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

You, the Night & Music

 

Owls make demands on Night.

Our flesh is the soul’s mould.

Other creatures hear where we are.

We are here, in a drumming ear.

We re-arrange means & meanings. 

It’s our ordering of things.

 

Our ordering of things escapes us 

As the empty space of air escapes 

Those falling earthen moulds 

Becoming shattered, scattered bowls.  

 

Our awareness of a banishment is met.

Air brushes up against Impressionist leaves,

Delicacy, & rosy cheeks.

 

& sounds of nothing,

& those owls,

Or the wolves,

Make clear that

Soon,

You too must go now . . .

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

 

Envy

 

 

 

 

 

My cat stalks the moon

 

through the sliding glass door.

 

My aspirations cannot near her own.