Tuesday, June 27, 2006


little windows
fragments of times
in which I once knew you.

Sunlight & black roses
mark a place
in another century --
1400? 1500?
Time never meant much back then.
Time moved too slowly back then.
Not like now,
when we never quite know
if we'll connect
at the doorway.

Arching overhead,
the contrails
of things we'd have once called

Under our feet, round pebbles
of clear sand,
pieces of a future
we've set to rebuild
in the image of past forests,
pasture, passed slowly
just you and me...


Black Kristel Night

You knock at my door, soundless,
and I know you,
Yes, I know you...

Dark flame in a white room
drawing heat from the night.
Words on a scrap of paper,
a few short lines
that pretend to tell
the tale of a person
lost on the streets.

Obsidian, sharpened
by terrors
at the hands of strangers,
family monsters,
betrayal of friends.
I know you --
one of those Burke could not save.

You knock at my door
and no one is there,
just a fiction on the front page
of everyday's news.

But behind the words...
terse words, of crimes committed,
sentences served,
paragraphs violated
in some dusty tome
no one actually reads...
behind the words
there are eyes,
a gleam in the darkness,
a shadow
to run
from the light.

Obsidian, reflecting
a pitch darker than night,
endless night,
even when the sun still shines.

Yes, I know you...
...Your reputation has preceded you.