of berry red and elder
i press my blood there
a thumbprint between
eye and dusk shadow
beauty as naked is
forgive this romance—
your night drawn in
fingerbones alone
i kiss you when you
dare to look away;
beat your heart closer.
i know i know
these are weary ways
to cast in cold
the frost alone
come now,
lead us walk
rose stones to
water waiting...
Category: poetry
of berry and elder
over graves tonight
with deadwood limbs
and ash grey heart
we sing scrimshaw
over graves tonight
daring winter winds
of ripping breath away
a rime of braided rope
ever taut and untamed
salt my lips in evensong
and stolen night awayhealshake
healshake the bone
rattled with seed, me
emptyhead & healshake
blackfeather, boreal wind
my stone, my stone, my stone
dive ice of waters blue
deep into the through
healshake these bones
rattle them with seed, meat stand
i am drawn to water
to stone rising above
my winter rimes here
gone to crow to feather
myself in shimmer & kohl
a turn to the north
to the water to flow
this slipping at moor winds
could you ever hear?slip
i sometimes walk a line
to slip crow or slip stone
and shed names calling
hollow temptations
i slip to fall, burnt bright
above the wishing well
cutting up the pieces
to scatter to the wind
my lips press a final—under moon
making simple hard
until it is hardly simple
elder oak sitting, up high
stretch broken wings to fly
with throat graveled calling
tumble on turns to fall
see beyond seeing
hear beyond hearing
feel beyond feeling
scent beyond scenting
a taste of song stuck
in craw
a slip between mistletoe
come at gloaming
under our sickle moonmostly nonsense iv

brown needles pine
feral underfoot sent
we slip shadow
we slip threshold
glide we to thin
star the night
flint the whisper
that same deep lake
as you, bone aching
come now her winter
crow call that her song
to this now
to this hererocking again;
unpluck the glass shards
that dog these fingerbones
let them crunch & grind
all words fell deaf to ears
all in the along, perhaps
needles will let ears feel
surrendering,
i climb to wain slumbers
giving over to rocking againmostly nonsense iii

we are the dirt we dig—
but do not say that aloud
for these gravities pulling
may be misunderstood
she called us in the over
a field away, waving away
we set our nod to the
bending down, sifting
through soil for the bone
i am not sure
the course sold is
the course once told
so we shovel all-souls
to the barrowmostly nonsense ii

all at the edge
we sometimes
threshold dance
in granite gloaming
as we tend our
acorn hearts
under them
big oak trees


