Creases (Latesummer)

With our last polaroids we took pictures of LIGHT and DARKNESS

Wild children ranged through the breezy doors

Scenes wandered through us
unfinished, smudged with cirrus
moon hovered over sunred trees

Most of matter is empty space.
Most of what I know is ignorance.

Dear one, you open in flickers.
How can I keep you
from closing up?
from hardening
around your guesses?

A person doesn’t change
except within boundaries
as crystals sharpen in the dank dark
as wildflowers crowd the trails edge

A membrane is prerequisite for LIFE.
There has to be an inside and an out.
What ratio of fear to reckless love?
Strong but not brittle, open not spilling.
How do we change without unravelling?

Dear one, hold on—
a little threadsong
to carry you
through deep woods

We are animals hunting for meanings, wearing
the pelts of meanings.

Nor is there singing school but studying:
tibia, fabula, nebula

vastuary

All summer I have been reading you
stories when I should have been teaching
you silence

using words made
of beach stones
—the round
tongues of eons

All bloom long
I should have been learning subtraction.

It is natural to lie down.
To pack my mouth full.

O coax fruit from my lips, O blank O
harbinger O time
O darling girl
I’m gonna hold you in my arms
til your feet grow down