For August

Even then when we could not look yet
We found a room and hung up our coats to dry a while

Candles flicker with the window shutters
The muted howl

In sorrow stencil a menagerie
Even if you only add a squawking penguin
It is something

Newish

When you least expect it, a reprieve
Life is still and cold as steel
Yet supple It
Coils and meets your shape
Heavy-lidded with sleep and relief
No longer having to steel oneself

NEC

riding on the northeast corridor
watching the graceful burlesque of the anheuser-busch eagle
sleepy eyed down the line


Trifecta

One is what you are,
One is your mask,
One is the tug of your body,
Grounding, leveling
Stomach intuition
The cowgirl lassoing in your girth