12 Degrees & Skiving

what began as year-long challenge has become perpetual until further notice

April 6

the forest of the morning

a mossed wedge of wool
those cypress from here
a forest’s mouth, lined
with pine
spanned by bready stone
the river strolls
fogged as lamp glass

heady insects spin in pairs
and threes
alight like crumbs

when a doe breaks the jar
of the river open
the first liquor of her day
sends up breath to smoke the dawn
sets sail ripples, each
circle the messenger of tryst
each whispers: here, now, now
to greet the muzzle opposite

we leave them now
to fathom the bridge downstream
to perhaps meet, or turn

fling our eyes through the
sediment of mist
a skyful of swallows
who skate, throw knives
at one another
and at a cat
I know
who bellies
low in the underbrush
marks out her kingdom
on her way home from a long
night of meetings.

ForestStream copy

Tell me wotcha reckon

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,102 other followers


poems, prose and pathways

Dasha Maiorova

Writer | Artist

A Ciência em tudo

Fatos e Curiosidades sobre a natureza e tecnologia

James Radcliffe

Meditations on Art and Life


"per l' allegria il pianeta nostro è poco attrezzato. Bisogna strappare la gioia ai giorni futuri "

the poet's billow

a resource for moving poetry

Two Twitch A Tale

Linking collage work to the meaning of personal and universal symbols.

At Home in Florence: Italian Renovations

This is my adventurous story about buying, designing, and renovating homes in ITALY

%d bloggers like this: