In the rhododendrons, something stirs.
Tar paper shacks on the black slope
lean in the direction of the wind.
The dogs tense and bristle their coats,
their master adjusts his head lamp.
Their orange hair quivers
as they bay into the valley.
A pine tree bends with the weight
of some invisible animal
scaling the branches.
The grass moves at the edge of the field
in waves and small eddies,
then stops, then begins
as the dogs collect their senses
beneath the brush.
The moon passes by a long cloud,
then rolls into the darkness.
The ground shudders,
a constellation of headlamps
defines the body of the forest.
visitation
the grey arms
define the impressions
of gravity,
her body
presses into
his suit
like a child
face down
in the sand
but instead
of water pouring
into the mold
imagine space
pushing the cloth
into its grey valleys--
the bottom of the ocean
is lighter than
this room--
the grey arms
reach for
something
a strand of smoke
slips from a pair of lips,
drifts to the floor
a pearl necklace
falling into
the water
understanding the ancients
An airplane buzzed overhead,
a dozen or so seagulls
pecked around my feet,
a man wearing a turban skated by--
and for one moment
you seemed to converge with all of it.
palimpsest
a woman slips through the long cattails
then pushes off from the bank
towards the center of the pond
she sinks into the water
as her pale suggestion echoes outward
on the edge of the ripples
the stars realign quickly
on the surface of the pond
as if the evening had not been disturbed
by her body, even for a moment
commentary:
an image on the surface,
a woman's body
piercing through it
only to be swallowed up
by the order of things
should her act
engrave a story on the water
or is it better to pass
through the wind like a bird
leaving no trace
of ever having been here