hunger

can this hold

hunger

returning now

but

i don’t ask

of becoming

shadows

of hands reaching

to face

of naked flesh

of hands to body

of being

and of becoming

the snow

The snow
had fallen overnight.
I was asleep.
I was away.
Somewhere far away.
Why always
away?

restless

a storm is coming
in the sky to the west
the sun is setting
a slender ribbon of light
trapped between nightfall
and restless clouds

birds

the sky is getting lighter, and the day has just begun.

the birds woke me up early.

the sky is getting lighter, and the day has just begun.

how could i be upset with the birds?

silhouettes

silhouettes of trees

dusk

blue sky fading

branches breathe in the

wind

the wind
passes through
the trees
bare branches
sway
then the house
starts to creak
we are
talking

the snow is deep

the snow
does not pile up
It was never meant to last
but I lose track of where it
falls across the fields
the ones untouched by wanderers
unmarked except for
a tree that breaks up the
rolling surface
there, the snow is deep
It was meant to be there

empty air

How does my breath
get taken by yours?
When I speak,
you seem to draw out the marrow
from my words.
If my words come from fear,
you take in the shadows.
If they come from longing,
then I am left holding only
the remains of desire.
Is this
how we share?
Breath at the core,
yet I am
grasping at empty air.

tea

a gray morning
a cup of hot tea
I set my thoughts aside
and watch for sunlight
I taste the sweet tea
lingering on my lips
I wish I could hold time
just slow it down enough
so daylight moves slowly
never quite arriving
and my tea
never gets cold