of what we know

it is with flying feet that sweeps the winter
blown in from higher places where echos
of what we know and do not speak aloud

the lying of the rustled sand now slips past
gone so soon into another stranger’s arms
these hurried days shout the anguished sky

leaves you sitting in the darkness wondering
how patient the seconds slip into each other
when will they turn and smile down you again



here and there

there with that loving goes

it was with an edgy silence

that they walked the green

with all that heather scented

opened into a wider space

where melon skies consumed 
the voices
that laughter lightly rose

heavy fog caressed the hills

found her curves and valleys

sways the windswept oak

how yellow the blanket grass

makes stand the dotted green

there with that loving goes

two such fragile hearts frame

a scene from Juliet’s garden

that even the moon went pale.