So many years of hurricanes
and earthquakes, tornados that rip
through minds and souls and aliveness.
How is it able to still thrash blindly
through our bloodstreams;
grind into destruction
every heart it touches.
fear
Hauling Stones from Outer Mongolia
What use is this wall
looming between us?
Can we balance along the top of it for miles?
Can we keep from being hurt
when even words
become weapons, laughter
an elixir of belief
in a world torn
bloody from climbing.
From The Scent of Water on Mirrors
Haiku 6.1
M-80s at 2 AM — Wild
vulgar voices slam windows.
Roused cat purrs for food.
brief salvage 