Groundless I’m breathing, noticing inbreath, outbreath; I’m reciting the numbers, their regular progression from one to eight, then one to eight again; I’m imagining moon-swayed

Loving and Leaving them for 30 years
Groundless I’m breathing, noticing inbreath, outbreath; I’m reciting the numbers, their regular progression from one to eight, then one to eight again; I’m imagining moon-swayed
From Nowhere You glance and see nothing: twigs, limbs, a havoc of tumble and risk, spindle and skewer, and then light shifts, leaves twitch, something
Recovering What’s Lost I wake up, another day, already mourning the absence of night, a missing immortality that lingers in memory like a restless ghost.
Given This spacious white desk is my own open sky. It floats unbothered, full of suppression and snow, a moonless still swathe for the static
landmarks I remember your house like it was my own. For a while, it was, when we met there in front of the fire on
again and again Night creeps around me, silent and sure. I sleep sound under soft grey blankets through the travelling night, lullabied, cradled, vast dreamscape