a night kitchen

In every poem, there must be a forest — 
Dark, deep for things to hide in.
Behind each leaf, an eye —
behind each eye, a leaf.
Panopticon of leaves,
the paws you won’t hear and the
breath you won’t see.
In every forest, there is a wolf.
In every poem, there must be a forest.

snow crossing
which was first — the footprints
or the shadow?

Inspired by this picture.

Cold night and dark early.
The house pipes sing around me like a kettle.
How many left?
There is no wisdom.

The fact that the lamp is on the opposite
hill does not mean it is far away

summer night
even the busses’ engines
fading into the distance

summer night
fire lit
and door
open to the rain