Wednesday, July 15, 2026

morning lulls

I-a

flailing in the figuring 

on my own in the quiet 

reaching for the buoys

I found I could float 

but can’t really swim 


II - segue 

cutting chords 

on glass tables 

I consume the sings 

a high slow and low 


 I-b 

nevertheless in the stillness 

of the quiet I calm

and inhale deep the bright 

through eyes wide shut