worn to bare wood the box lid fell open from my fingers old letters, ripped envelopes broken jewelry faded photographs tokens from a past I refuse to let go of history inked on lines one side conversations with the soul I didn’t ask enough questions didn’t think to wonder didn’t let fear have a foot…

    I never left the strip of sunshine that fell through the window along the carpeted floor not when the glass shattered all around me exploding the moment not when the cup spilled into deep cracks unreachable by cloth to be removed not when silence killed the music and breathing was not an option…

the day has me by the throat and pressed to the door a push to stare through tempered glass at the week ahead. calendar marked black every day every night and the last day will have to be for rest only or laundry because no other day will fit. unless I choose to walk naked…

  stepping into mud foot pressed I feel it through my chest heavy in the heart with head low the sky rumbles in disagreement pushed down further wanting only rest left behind printed in clay until the rain falls to erase me ~

the rumour of spring tiptoed across the branches above my head and tripped over the tip before landing on the soft ground at me feet we dissolve together laughing I have missed you your sunshine kisses and warm gentle breezes. stay close for a little while longer please. ~

  I did not know the way turned against the flow of traffic to wander down quieter streets music played while I walked people shouted to each other birds sang Walking reminded me of breathing a step forward a breath inward and so I continued the street became a path the path became grass the…

croci huddle in small clusters along the walk pressed by ice and snow of a sudden storm winter won’t let go air too cold for barefeet I sit perched on the porch watching fat flakes hit the pine until I can no longer see for the white covered window blind in the moment I close…

  give it time the music said please radio waves in the night notes from the weatherstation he sleeps in a chair tucked in the corner undisturbed by the sound soft voice escapes no one hears turn the arrow thinking of the melody I wonder who thinks of me while I am dreaming ~

V beyond your gentle fingers touch where blue sky lays itself down small white clouds and birds are home there with the wind where the path crosses the stream water runs in the woods to join the river I hear you breathing stretching out reaching warming soil drawing in light I hear you breathing whispered…

IV turn down the volume candles burn loudly on the table heartbeat like thunder I hold my breath to find stillness darkness creeps in ~

III   deep night calls what dreams will fill you while you sleep? I wonder Perhaps you do not and sit behind a screen to write or at a desk to draw what thoughts drift like smoke from late fires into the velvet air? ~