In Uncategorized on 10/28/2012 by yxwonfacomde1977

At the Edge of Dreams



this nuthatch pair

to and from the hole

in the willow…

the invisible thread

that holds a dream


paper scrolls

wrapped around the heartwood


in pine-scented shade

my tree of songs for you


one year on…

resting the brush

on the inkstone

(for Japan)


moorland sun

on the wooden bench

sit thissen down


Between the Folds

Claire Everett & Autumn N. Hall
too tired
even for pillow talk…
a bee
enters my dream
burrows deep in a foxglove
the muffled buzz
of your snore nudging me
from reverie…
reshaping my back to
your curve’s caress
gone our separate ways
we turn together, folding
the night edge to edge. . .
the moon looks in, smooths quilt
and brow, stays a while
just enough light
to read by…I open
the book of our lives,
seeking us as we once were
in its dog-eared…

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