Under Ice

On the edge of the earth

I feel that galaxy

rotating, turning

how it must really be,

while my hands press

up from under

the glass–

The ever splendor light

tries to melt us

our fingers

to pierce through darkness

once more–

I am cold

very cold

that I no longer shiver

but am waiting

waiting for a voice

to take me back

from my frozen slumber

a stillness

in a breathless dream

where inaudible sounds

of children and families

run and laugh, talking

in a far away place

on a silent hill

of green

and frosty desperation

where the dream-catcher

of earth


every last piece of life

from a bountiful tulip

to a fallen red leaf

once from a maple tree

now, all coated

and covered

imprisoned and preserved

to hold life tranquil

and one day

pressing forward

it will crack.

Half the Water

In the black sky

was a black eye

that was white

as snow and death

pealing before me

like a boiled egg


feathers and glimmering

star dust–

Quickly does a tear drop

with reflections of our faces

humanity, at last

at fate–the unquenchable

the unthinkable

speaking their last words

like a fallen star–

We forget the galaxies

for they knew us

We love ourselves

for we knew us–

As the silent limbo

of this grey life

takes us


into cold air

of an endless night

breathing a final breath

ever so fresh.