Tuxedo Magazine, 1991

Breathe with me Love these final

night songs slipping between

the salt deep between

boats under canvas of rough

sails and sing for me the aria again

beneath the lantern moon

the heat the Goddess

brief-lived by flame

sing with me breathe with me again

under the bright

moon diminishing horizon

two voices two breaths one

heart of salt heavy lambent air.

Early winds already clipping silver of

the swells rolling softly

over again, again Love

our boat moored against

silence, rolling softly over,

breathe, fix, halt the transient dark

call the round hour back

and let us whisper one more note.

*The aubade is a poetic form used by young lovers for centuries, a lament for the dawn of the new day.


Tuxedo Magazine, 1991

There up

higher hill, low

thickness of no air and panic

wraps the body as it drowns

in altitude.

Shuffle-boot scrabble

the day up faces

of rock and scrub,

wires of air stretch

humming taut,

suspend the mountain from the high blue vault.

At the top

jumbled piled stone

scree and slithering

down, my limbs trembling.

A battered ash split

by fire then rain

flat gray turned

cobblewash brown with wet

root fingers

the flanking stone thighs slick

mirror blue

St. Elmo’s Fire come

to claim the hour back from water,

the same that took the ash

split on the hill’s high shoulder and quickened the portal to another dawn.


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