p u l l e d through — for Luke
for Luke on the eve of his 40th trip around the sun— a communion of words—yours, mine and ours. always, C. p u l l e d through the first time braided stream brush chase the curves veracious lunchin’ … Continue reading
for Luke on the eve of his 40th trip around the sun— a communion of words—yours, mine and ours. always, C. p u l l e d through the first time braided stream brush chase the curves veracious lunchin’ … Continue reading
gazelle you’ve stood up and stopped talking an unwavering gaze clips past your dad to where I’m standing in the stairway jesus you’re not even blinking and all I can think of is that this must be how a gazelle … Continue reading
Vire Island I heard about it once in an old Elton John song a place where there is only you and you can hear me and other states of grace I cannot name though we locked them up on Vire … Continue reading
ghosts of thanksgiving unlaced shapes of early morning ache and kindred faith lift us before the dawn can light the day like soft fog on a still lake weightless and held in endless realms of sacred stasis © cs moon 2014 … Continue reading
rain-soaked rivers our existence swells in bottomless beveled wells until the clouds can’t carry the wait water borrows the rain in fluid loops we fall back again each drop rows on rain-soaked rivers knowing the ocean can only hold … Continue reading
Take It Back I stop folding the mess in my bedroom grab the buzzing phone from the top of the dresser get ready to fall into my favourite chair wait for the buoyancy of a well-known voice but the … Continue reading
Crush it wasn’t his brilliant bits of wordsmithery that pulled me headfirst into the crush it certainly didn’t require us to touch it was the way he wore that unbrotherly stare and a barely audible voice memo that simply … Continue reading
On Fore Street above a green door and the tower of St. Mary’s the sharp sound of morning gulls wafts across the top of eight o-clock bells our song is perched in the corner on an old wooden chair beside … Continue reading
The Neighbor’s Farm behind a row of Paso Robles oaks we leave them sleeping sneak out of the rickety side door bare feet drag the ragged hems of old denim across Old Creek Road hurried laughter trespasses a summer … Continue reading
Ribbons You’re sitting across from me in our local broken-down pizza place wearing a pale blue supermarket smock and I’m watching you fiddle with your headband. Weren’t you just skipping through the sand with ribbons and pigtails? I remember … Continue reading