color sings across the hillside

color sings across the hillside. retrofitted to the narrow cleft, a shadow that will last. my pocket is filled with striated stones. the river didn’t report the theft. the wind exhorts the clouds to drag the moon over the juniper. we each come alone to these astonishments: the common grackle, conversation, the heart’s peregrinations, carrying […]

Alone

After René Magritte, Castle in the Pyrenees (1959)   Here I am, alone, atop a boulder—suspended over cold water. My stone castle has a thousand rooms. In each room, light angles through a tall glass pane and illuminates the space in a different way. Every day, I move my heart to another room— emptied of […]