along the wall a ladybug ( Read more... )

your mind wanders from me far too often ( Read more... )

red evening light slices the trees on the rise ( Read more... )

words drift across the field ( Read more... )

you walk inside
leaves swirling
behind you
your coat open
thirteen logs
outside
the axe near the door

i pull on gloves
and step into the fading light
five logs in
near the stove
you hand me tea
in a green mug
steaming

fall fades into winter
routine and cold
dried leaves under snow
under bright white skies
axe in hand
you walk outside
into the

"The limits of my language mean the limits of my world." -Ludwig Wittgenstein ( Read more... )

calling ahead i snag a table ( Read more... )

"Everything flows, nothing stands still." -Diogenes Laërtius ( Read more... )

disaster happens ( Read more... )

you call to say
goodnight
from a hotel in my
yesterday
which, given the curve of the earth,
is firmly moored in your
today
i try to imagine what
the night
looks like after i have
already seen it
you tell me you will call
tomorrow
but i already knew
you had