I tell this thing
with wings
I'll be more careful
next time
but it doesn't hear me
the voice I use
with my grandkids
the same exact voice
my mind uses
when I talk to me
a flower
I've never seen
growing in the void
..just a few more days
I tell the sparrow
named august
the heaviest hearts
bow the deepest --
sunflowers
watermelon from the fridge
how
november tastes
the fluttering
of a sparrow's wings
landing on a branch
(the way my heart
comes home to you)
my poems
not worth the stardust
I write them with