The beaches are covered with messages from
a promised land. I crush the red sand in my hand, walk.
Trailers of jets streamed over the horizon,
the imprint of giants backs
sleeping on the clouds above.
In this shallow water a purple
reef, scoured, clinging to the walls.
Waves talk as if they haven’t seen
me for years.
knocked to the shore
raise the spectacle of false hope
One sky, one ground, all is still
The clouds are a wavy plain
I want to show you the world over in beauty
There is no love or art of degrees, and you
always receive me, the patient, the student.
Constriction of the heart
An angel is the imprint
of moth wings
on a window
There is a moment of dots, precipice, and pinnacles
just before setting, locked in its moment of ecstasy
the sky is pink, the ocean is purple.