A six year boy wrapped in gauze stares from one eye into
An abyss
As a child 200 years ago....

As a child 500 years ago....

An abyss where a wind of horror screams
long after the bones have dried

Where a book burning with bloodied words 
Of the last child who held it....

Where sorrow and rain is the cold soup
of death...



Lesina marina


Let us celebrate not what is human within us
But the other

Sister bee folding its flowers away from us
To live

Brother hawk watching us in its snowfall whitened feathers
On our window ledge

Grandmother moon holding us within herself
Over a still river

Grandfather wind whispering to our dreams outside
our locked and frightened windows

Let us celebrate not what is human within us

But the other....

Tasoom. Tsistsistas word for shadow and soul.
Derived from Hematasoomao - immortal spiritual potential.

© 2021 Lance Henson

Night Suite (1987)

night suite

the only sound is night

i walk around inside a dream
touching the small faces of things

the heating stove in the living room
lifts up its eyes

looking for winter

another name for dawn

along a thin wafer of horizon
it begins

there is no erasure of night

it is the timeless opening and closing
of a single hand

she was dreaming of water
a small butterfly she flew
along the surface

her wings touching softly the quiet water 
wingdust and water mingling

in air stained by the moon

© lance henson 1987


Henson, Lance. Another Song for America. Point Riders Press, 1991.

walking through this half light

walking through this half light
toward what never goes away....

a glass rain untouched
in a mourning jungle

The scent of burning hair
And dying ethos

at the side of a hollowed
forgotten passageway

Where love in its latency

Whispers for the dreamer to awaken....

Posted from the stronghold
Lesina Marina, Italy

© 2021 Lance Henson


Hear the bells in their tiniest voices
Dripping as water....
Embracing you

We love you...
Its sound sings....

We are you....

Where human dreams of freedom are a river
That cannot die....



We are you....
We are you....

Its sound sings....

For Kyal Sin, known as Angel
Young activist killed by Burmese police

Irrawaddy, Burmese river

© 2021 Lance Henson



these are the ones who enfold light
causing it to strike the earth
the ones who
caress silence
their older sister

the ones that hover over
the wintering water

the ones who spin
their angry eye upon us

the ones who gather above us
as we dream

these are the ones who unfurl
the grown moon...

*vo’e: Cheyenne for clouds

© 2021 Lance Henson