June 2007
JuneJun 25 Monday 07
seventeen years after my death
beyond the horizon where the fenceline disappears,
willows weep in darkness for his passing.
a young boy, waiting around his father,
suddenly extends his arms to be picked up,
and that is how the sky comes closer, bringing with it
a cloud that started waning miles …
my brother
he would beat the familiarity and youth out of me as a child;
his bony hands twitching like tree branches in fall,
walking with his dark spectre-cloud trailing behind or over his mumbling head.
in some ways he walked like everyone else.
i know am my brother's …
JuneJun 19 Tuesday 07
the drowning boy
i try to remember myself as the drowning boy.
warm water greedily pulling me in.
sterling crouched at the edge of the tub with a smile,
as i bobbed up, water sloshing under my chin.
i sank again into white porcelain depths.
face covered by rows of bubbles,
his big …
JuneJun 11 Monday 07
childhood is never about dreaming
the past is the intransigent shadow you stand upon -
the last ray of sun slanting in west of autumn,
west of each memory rewritten, condensed to a few lines on loss,
originating from a silence beyond where schoolchildren,
clamorous as a catastrophe of bells, …
JuneJun 7 Thursday 07
the stars draw closer
at night, when I grieve the most
the stars draw closer,
as if to tell me that loss
needs warmth from the inside-out.
i sit and wait for those low clouds to mourn,
while spring begins to slip into slumber.
then warm dreams magnify the instant
when I was …