OCTOBER 30
 
 weeds' thin reach or his hands waiting
beneath fields wrenched open with loss
where seeds once were stones
what will not wither quickly

now the cool change
of direction as only birds
know the way back
and shadows wear the road down
where he's not seen only
heard whispering

tomorrow what rises as blue
from the ground opens
her hand like sun he
comes looking for her
this year who can she be
and save herself

but now gutters gleam yellow harvest
scattering of geese squawk
overhead trees turning from the
tip inward
on her fingers this green taste
slowly fading
as she watches for his skin
to fall away
and then his clothes
 
 

ARROWS
 
 No coincidence eros/arrows
like needles on the street
a word you show me for
survival, wishing it were always
night without a lantern moon, trusting
dark to your hands, under tooled-black
leather a wrist frail, white as altar wax
your arm pierced with rungs
where stars lose their weight
to hold us, you say
"When I love you there is
no pain," but color lives
on a yellow strap
tied to make bones recede
finally they're what's left (only
a matter of when) and I can't name
what shoots into your heart
though I stand for hours
peeling back the mirror's gaze