Captioned...

-

Seasons turn and turn,
but love waits unseasoned.

-

Your absence is a stanza I cannot revise,
yet I keep scribbling margins with your name.

-

s t r e t c h e s
a quiet river
folding clouds
into its
long memory.

-

Theater Of Embers

Moans rise from ash,
yet the fire is alive still.

Dis-ease prowls like smoke,
climbing the steep rafters.

The mountain is a stage
where shadows speak,
each plant rehearsing
the script of survival.

Solace hangs in the wings,
but the earth palpitates
with another ending.

The curtain trembles—
is it ruin,
or the rumor of dawn?

-

Barefoot suns
rise from every footprint
the red earth
tilts sideways,
and history walks backward
carrying her hem.

-

She

She waits—
a sliver of waiting
becomes abundance,
for every vanishing
lingers longer than it should,
like a note leaning too far
yet refusing silence.

So she threads
pause into pause,
keeps the corridor inviolate.
No hour dissolves.
All abide—
consecrated
by her steadfast standing.

-

//Captioned//

-

Somewhere,
beyond the solstice wind,
she moves
an anodyne
for forgotten asters
and vanishing rains.

-

Statues wait
their blind marble gazes
see more clear
than I dared.
My offering cracked mid-air,
dust on their sandals.

-