Nightbird

It calls with a clear

two-fingered whistle;

how a neighbor summons children

home for summer supper. 

Unabashed wooing.  

A lark?  Or Cherokee mother

clothed in twilight sadness,

blade of grass pressed in her lips.

Run.  Feel night-cooled meadow

under sunburned feet.

Find the moth-specked porch lamp,

the scent of belonging.

Without the chatter of song birds,

it seems human in the dark.  Urgent.

Should I leave by back door or front?
Persistent pipe.  O! Come.

tk/June 2015

Beautiful read by R.A.D. ...

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*A Midsummer Night's Melancholy by Michael Sowa

It

Sleep is innocent.

It runs, hides in the dark,

is easily frightened by radiators,

the drop of a digital clock.

I have access no longer

to the lull of manifold sheep.

Time zones are corrupted

with a single cunning sock.

Night spins uncountable hours

in a game of blindfold;

I hear your voice in my head,

misidentify your face on purpose,

wanting always to be it.

tk/December 2014

Deliciously soporific R.A.D. Stainforth...

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Outerbelt

Speedway soars

without pit or champion.

Glow of dashboard.

Echo of centrifugal force.

Cars never cross the finish line

bleached with tire marks.

White-knuckled steering wheels.

Endless narrow-eyed loop.

At night there is no grandstand. 

I am the only fan.  Awake.

Dizzy with silent exhaust.

Inhaled secrets.

Drivers envy the cool

underside of my pillow.

I hide under the covers.
Dream headlong.

tk/November 2014


Charming read by R.A.D. Stainforth and Amy the cat...

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The Absence

I grip the banister,

touch each sleepless stair―

the door's salutation

sounds sadder in the dark.

Night swallows me,

one naked shoulder at a time.

I hear your voice in the crickets―

fireflies remind me of the distance,

how each nocturnal window twinkles

from counties to countries.

How stars scatter

differently across your sky.

tk/July 2013 

Thanks to R.A.D. Stainforth for this masterful reading.  

Man and The Moon, 1990 by Andrew Wyeth 

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