I step outside to fetch a log for the dying fire inside,
Cassiopeia slipping quietly behind the last stand of pines.

Embers above, embers below.

We must keep this fire going as if our lives depended upon it,
Even though they really don’t.


Deviscive Erosion

You stand on an errant piece of land,
earth moving silently beneath your being,
being shifting in such a phantasmic
and abhorrent way as to keep all life
in a constant state of flux.

You’re 5, 12, 21, 29, 33, 42, 950.

The earth cares nothing
for the architecture of our arithmetic.
It tears down our numbers,
our meticulously calculated kingdoms,
one glaciated striation at a time.


# 361

she looks out across the grey,
sky holding water
and me holding my breath.

i wait for her
to turn 'round,
all the while knowing
she never will.

i'd whisper a prayer
if i knew what to say.
but she is already gone,
lost before i can
even find her.