Salsa in the Park


Move with ease
    like trees in the summer
softly moved by a breeze
    enamoured to the groove of salsa.

We’ll be professional dancers
    if our eyes stay locked with a padlock.
You smile like kids in a fountain
    who don’t mind getting wet.

Let’s extend this moment with a quilt
    and cuddle with it for the rest of the summer.





Nocturne


In dreams I translate
my life into words again
and again. But when
I look at them they begin
to disassemble
and spill and pour all over
till the page is white.





Looking at a Fire at Night


Fire burns the most red in the winter,
suspended pieces of burnt leaves
float with the smoke, unsure of where to go.

Dry logs crack as air bubbles pierce
the mist; restless souls released
into the atmosphere.





I Wish You Were Here


The sunlight waltzes through the treetops
which compose a backdrop
around a green field covered in dandelions
and suspected specks of white.
The–
why bother? you aren’t here,
words won’t be enough
and–
well, there are things
that can’t be described.





In the Heart of the Woods


It’s quite quiet out here–
rain pats the tarp
like minimalist music–
branches whistle like pipe organs
as the wind plays through them–
a creek streams in constancy
through thirsty rocks–

this is Silence–
nothing really breathes
though things are quite alive–

the city is far–
it feels like I’m the only one
in these woods
for miles–
I hear a plane thrash
through the sky...

I’m never far enough.