Twig,
you are a small thing—
a slight appendage to the astonishments of the universe.
But to me
your slender, silent testimony,
your sheltered winter sap
sticky with promise, your fullness:
they seduce me.
I want to share
your slow, secluded breathing,
breath in my breath;
to search, to caress
your leaf scars,
your lenticels, your shy buds
Let’s forget the echoes
of my thirtieth year
for there’s refuge
in the night and the moon.
Moonlit night
where imagination stretches starward.
Moonlit night
where my name falls off like an autumn leaf.
Moonlit night
where I’m a sapling attune to winter wind.
Moonlit night
where my past hibernates, ant-sized.
October Doleful Calm: only one leaf flutters at a time, not warning, a whisper. The setting sun slunk to hide behind the hills and for one minute maple leaf shadows dance on our blank wall. Your phone caught it as video. Chickadees show no fear at the birdbath near where I rocked away the summer […]
Read more "October Doleful"This is the last in a series of three installments for Visitant featuring collaborative works from poet Dennis R. Kolakowski and artists Bruce Pipman and Charles W. “Bud” Gibbons, III. Biographies and back story below. No Creek Up Here Every beer I ever swallowed has been a fair investment in this moment, but Lord what I wouldn’t give right now […]
Read more "No Creek Up Here"
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