A zero’s not nothing
Makes the difference between small and big
Not how to express nothing
but how to express something
As silence prepares us for resonance
As spaces between the spokes
make the wheel
Zero’s where we start
What’s on the branch when the songbird
has flown
Perhaps where we end
Summer is shedding its skin
leaf-strewn and breeze straddled
the nights never still
sirens crickets lost deliveries
fireworks or gunshots
the willows drying their tears
if you close your eyes
you’ll miss the owl
its careen through branches
the stillness on birch
if you close your eyes
you’ll lose another decade
its lightning bugs
its tiny miseries
if you close your eyes
you’ll feel the years
their subtle thrall
this cursory experience
a heartbeat or an eternity
unexamined feels like nothing
right now I’m aware
that I am the fool
and I have a world to learn.
Breathe in.
A few Saturdays ago,
Before the summer storms began, my
Candle was starting to tunnel.
Did you know in the
Event that happens, you can use aluminum
Foil to
Grow the warmth and
Heat the exterior as much as the
Interior.
Just in case you were curious, nature’s
Kick in Salt Marsh Rose by D.S. & Durga
Levitates you to the
Middle of everywhere, all at once. The
Notes read
Of
Pepper (sweet, to be exact),
Quiet creeping bent,
Rose (swamp, to be precise), and
Sea Lettuce, reminiscent of
Thickets,
Undisguised in the Cape.
Very remarkable, I think, for the
Wick to perform for the
Xenial host. If it keeps up, next Saturday
You’ll be left with
Zilch.
Sweat can’t find enough pores
To escape my skin.
Hands in the mouth of Hell,
Retrieving bones from the flesh the flame took.
Dark red tanned forearms,
Pulsating from overuse.
Just three more.
But then,
I saw her.
Lunging, wheezing figure,
White sheet with faded brown blood stain.
She, in pain, afraid.
I close my eyes,
Pausing my attempt to clean the hearth.
I speak aloud,
“I am so sorry.
I am so sorry.
I am just one man.
I’m doing what I can
To do right by you all.
I feel your pain, too.
The burdens I carry can hurt.
Please, forgive me if I’ve crossed you.”
Gone.
Standing in the dissonance
Of a cooling machine
And another decedent.
–
Be kind to the dead.
i don’t remember the last time i’ve been outside like that.
he took me to the four wheelers,
through the paths worn by time,
then he let me lead,
until i tired him out
and he said i should go on my own,
just come in if it starts to rain.
he’s gotten older since i was here last,
softer.
i haven’t breathed in fresh air like that
since i can’t remember when.
i felt like i could finally think.
the humidity kept the grass tall and green,
though the trees were bare
and the sky got dark,
but the wind was my friend,
and no matter where i turned,
i always ended up back home.
he told me i could come back anytime,
to keep the paths cleared,
he said.
i told him,
maybe i will.
maybe i will.
Pond darting dragonflies
deck sunning turtles
soft trickling water.
An afternoon’s rapture
escapeful delight.
