you are your own moon
to rise and fall
in exceptional time
sometimes to dress
in a gown of cloud
torn at the edges in
an upward climb
unwilling to show
both sides at once
a sidereal dance
in a sequined sky
you will outdistance
what doesn’t matter
like a mime amongst
cacophonous chatter
outshine the stars
that never ask why
and when night is done
and folded away

you are your own sun
for another day

ALARM

you have escaped
sound the alarm
pass through the door
touch my arm
so I know beyond death
there is still a kind roar
nod from the afterlife
across celestial moors
wink from abroad
drag a chair over the floor
let me know that the gang
who have since crossed over
reads books, drinks wine

contemplates lovers
touch my arm
catch my eye with
a fleet moving shadow
make me nervous at midnight
shriek a silent falsetto
argue mortality
make me sound dumb
give me the room

on my swollen tongue
to find words that match
your gracious passing
to stop and reflect
that death does the asking
we decide on ruckus
or simply respond
like a slow moving duck
over a still life pond
sound the alarm
get me ready
for whatever it takes

while I’m here
while I’m living
the heart will break
into pieces that grow
like new limbs on a starfish
and just when I’ve been
bereft of courtship

opaque after bloodletting
drawn from my heart
the chair scrapes
and sits on a heavenly floor
I have a seat

when I’m done with my purpose
a slow moving passport
with the ones who are there.

Bones

too often the late night
lonely sinner
reckons a life
in a brooding simmer
the wine recalls
what sorrow befalls
a plate piled with universal hurt
she don’t have to pick at
these sad bones alone
he pulls up a seat
scans the menu she’s been served
he looks for substance
in a present course
puts aside bittersweet
and says what’s for dessert?