The world is full of ghosts now.

ghost jobs, ghost books, ghost images…

make me whole, make me one, I say,

and

you do.

wooden chairs ring a darkened room,   

the one light above touches all:     

the moment of consciousness

when nets and cages are broken…

(essay)

A couple of weeks ago, I found something...

the largest moss-covered sentinels, noted, named,

hazel halls cooled in summer, glowed in fall

became skeletal in winter. 

here, leaves fall, released and free

the ease of light and gravity

deeper than the edge of life.

you are the sun, jay bird

if we are similar to those dark-matterinos,

it is in the way light and dark are similar.

Two parts of a whole, perhaps.

ours is a romance of quiet companionship

Maybe we can...

counting days until the next vacation…

Cosmos and earth are not two…

Trees traverse these fragile years

beetles fill the deepest cracks…

A turn to matters of spiritual guidance

is not the talk we thought we’d have.

and now we have entered the darker time

through misted silk, branches suspended…