Archives: Poem Gallery

the old man among the tides
takes off as a pelican–
as light as air

green pastures
udders filling
cud by cud

the swishing cow
her many darts of flies
brought to the barn

Monarchs
picking the river stones
to rest their migrations on

hair knots–
the salts of seawater
her mum combs –through

gold autumn leaves
those fallen skeletons
for their rebirth

Sudden noise in the wind
the middle of a dream
I’ll never see finished.