Pilgrim


The mind is a pilgrim

never populating

a space

aside from itself.

Though wandering it leaves no trace

instead it goes missing

veiled in steady speech

of other things

While hermitage finds

it can be mobile

as well as stagnant

without ever reaching

ideals of a monk

and

Virtues have vacated each place visited

until shame

invites them in again.

At A Time


Grew up on hunger, sleep and justice

 

Tired days stole the pleas of the stomach

and fed them to blind scales

 

Reciprocation is hard work

and something justice

doesn’t do well

 

But a few alterations

in the plans

are done

So hunger growls another way

 

Too loud now for rest

 

Too steady to let bloom

wilt

even when it asks the wind

to

push it far from stem to where the grove

is filled a stone at a time.

Before


Before getting lost

to the space

of the tight-knit

Northeast

A loosely scripted message

needs to be typed

sent through the web

away from hands

holding envelopes,

standing in line for stamps

hoping to feel

like this is the way

one goes about

(be)longing.