In this brief rest

In this brief rest
An anointment of sunlight through leaves

In this late hour
Late for animals

Late for humans….

Wolves of memory 

In the half light of dawn….

Something has passed
      And will no longer follow us….

Though it’s sound will live with us forever….

Its same hawk
circling in its hymn of light….

The raven texts….a day poem
19march20

Here in the unspoken

 

Here in the unspoken….
Where a dead lover

immaculate in her

Invisibility….

Brought me to a flowing river….

Late afternoon

 

The trees ascending into the water….

Where her eyes opened for the last time
forever….

Whispering

This is where dreams bring their wounded…
This is where dreams cross over leaving
us….

This is where dreams….
Come to die….

From the stronghold

April 2 19

For pat.

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Mom

Mom

Here in this quietude….

There is your voice
                Whispering from a remembered place…
Smiling from the distances that separate fear from joy….

Agony from aloneness….

Your cigarette smoke forming ancestral light….

                    That embraces calm
                                                 In a world lost….

To itself….

Foggia ghetto 
February 23.19

Sweat Lodge Song

Eyo haugo…
Ema koeed….
Shards of burnt spirit light all around….

Pieces of grey fur caught on the stacked wood

Old ones have passed here….

‘It is raining hard’
‘It is a strong wind’

Emaome ehmin
Sweat lodge song

For peter and Lynn.
October 30, 18

Beware

My grandmother whispered to me in a dream….
Beware the white cities…the ones filled with hatred and fear
The ones where the ones who can see are
Imprisoned by the blind….

The ones who live from the dead meat of others…
Devouring their eyes that are staring at them….

The ones who have arrived from the putrid underbelly
Of human waste….

Formed from the shit of their ancestral darkness…
Carrying the heads of their dead gods
As tokens of their devotion…

Eating the white plate of their deities
Forced upon her as a child..

She looked at me whispering

beware….

The white cities.

Tricase italy

For minimic,tsistsistas
Rena cook,cheyenne
August 7.18

In the Andes above Medellin

Why have I awakened here
With the watches of the dead scattered like eyes
On the floor….

Somethings that are left of me
Have found their way here

Where I am kneeling….
Praying for you….

Along this rain soaked columbian road

Where singing arrives out of the darkened trees
Small wrens

sitting among the tears
Of the missing….

Drying on the frosted leaves….

In the Andes above Medellin
8/3/18

Awakening

Awakening…..
From a twilight dream
of open eyes in a dark room

Watching….

Hope an emaciated silhouette standing in a burning forest….

Recurrent….

Our seized breath….

Guardians of an emptiness we cannot remember….
We cannot forget….

From the stronghold
Bologna Italy
10/10/18

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