mornings

standing by the sink-
I feel the warmth from your feet
on the bathroom floor

lost in your dreams-
I silence my alarm
before it wakes you

City

seventh floor walk up-
down in the street feral cats
howl in the moonlight

stuck to my sheets-
the only breeze
from a passing train

Moonlight

bright mid-winter stars-
your alabaster shoulders
dressed by the ghost moon

rumpled sheets-
asleep intertwined
blanketed by the moon

Morning

hard edged and soulless-
the treacherous dawn comes to
spirit you away

softly closing doors-
again I awake
to an empty bed

Vampire

a cold night’s work done-
the creeping light of daybreak
seeps into my tomb

guttering torchlight-
weary of the death
that slakes my thirst

Ghosts

milkweed in the wind-
beside the ancient live oak
I bury our bones

a lonesome gong-
pale wisps of trees
fade in the mist

Awake

my rhododendrons-
robins erupt into song
just before the dawn

the sun rises-
heedless of the
whiskey and beer

Sunday

warm morning birdsong-
my love asleep next to me
aglow in the sun

robin song-
curtains sway in
the morning breeze

Shadow

a field of shadows-
the bargains made with myself
so swiftly broken

a full flower moon-
silver shadowed
daffodils

Sleep

your hand grasps my thumb-
our breathing becomes one as
sleep takes you away

post bottle-
a twitch wakes you
for just a moment