pieces of me

sleep wouldn’t have me, because i needed to lose something- but it followed me and faintly stood beside me in the road.

nothing moves but the fog. it almost seems unsure of itself. it holds everything at a distance, as though the night doesn’t want to be known.

i find myself staring at the streetlight- a pale circle suspended in the dark, like someone left a question there and walked away.

i stand there longer than i need to.

i don’t know if the answer will ever come in words, but i think i understand just a little, in the way the light refuses to travel.

some things never quite settle. they quietly keep the watch.

like that light pole holding up the dark with a single, tired bulb.

I don’t worry about rhyme. Two trees, one next to the other, are rarely identical. I think and write the way flowers have color, but how I express myself is less perfect, for I lack the divine simplicity of being only my outer self. I look and I am moved, I am moved by the way water flows when the ground slopes, and my poetry is natural like the stirring of the wind […]