bridgenexto31stbridgang

the beginning of spring the begging rain falls unheeded by sticks still   small ears of leafs unearthly green listen to the late frost

figures strange figures perplexes abstract edges minute spars set flying into eyes blinking sun onto blinding the froth drifting steps forwa...

the stove talks this morning of snow of units of weight of measures of shovels of pancakes of armida of maria callas of old rossini of time ...

in this, this biting and dark evening the sandbar is sunk with snow the brittle apple sticks clack the bristle dry goldenrod rattles the ste...

the lines are faster in the night the temperature dips into a vault the knot is tight enough to tell time the fingers that unwind are blind ...

a step into the moon several inches deep the dust settles and at the edges are non compete clauses and other verbiage little remembrances of...

on the path to the pile the goldenrods reach into in the way dried and rigid they rattle the wind the seeds take off agree with the breeze

the leafs are off  the wind has toys the trees feel free the sun finds shade

lost in the pavement are stones immobilized records of moments transition metals and elements rarer feet stepping hither and thither

on hard ground again a fine edge on every green blade a mirror held up to the sun this morning I walk at a run