Month: July 2018

In a city I knew
In a dream I did not,
Simultaneously real
And unreal,
The scent of shallots.
In a park filled with statues,
With déjà vu
I resolved
An older problem,
In a city where my hosts
Were both living
With the scent of cinnamon,
And long-time buried
With sunflowers scented,
Became common as ghosts,
The tool of remembrance
Showed me the route
From myself again.

271.

Summer rain, I caught
The opaqueness of space where
Once they made me kneel.

270.

In a forge of woes,
In steel-tipped drips the lava,
The summer misspent.

269.

Once I rowed in a
Tireme, a thranite through the
Surf; now, in a gym.

268.

First the grass gave up.
Then the leaves, the sea, the whales.
Then waves, endless waves.

267.

I stood firm, pushing
Back against the tsunami
Behind a glass door.

266.

Compared with moments

In-between, there is power,

Greater, in some dreams.