The game

By the shallow stream
of shaded stones
sit two friends
who is one in one's mind

where the darker
are darker than the brighter
the brighter
brighter than the darker
handful of the assorted
more assorted than what are not

Then the game shall begin

One has the darker move ashore
One has the brighter join the stream
One cannot though
be more elaborate
than the other
whose dream one dwells

One wins over
a loser imagined
who triumphs
in a reign transverse

One left
who are two players
dreaming
and dreamt about.

9/3/17 Boca

Birth of a Dark Flower

Thoughts ornament
the sphere of waves
no longer standing
its own weight

Momentum of the fall
falls on momentum
down the crumbled
leaning on the dust

Eye of a pin
settles below
prairie of storm
the newly born
left the incomplete

Dark petals
scatter abroad
a heaven inverse
never again
seen

Young roots
inhale the depth of
a battered dawn.

4/22/2017, Boca

Time

She sits and contemplates
on eternity
With an enveloped teabag
Lukewarm
In another enveloped world

Her mirror binds her
The shadow courts her
The web of cues
Plunged into the spindle
A puncture
Awakens time

She sits and contemplates
She sits.

1/25/2017