Betroth

at dawn no
really at dawn
aubade or not

sung so bad
the light be
troth to the

first instance trans
mission a series
of stories to

whom it was
given rusted rays
of jagged metal

sun blast arctic
air winter slant
of light a

clarifying barren light
sit beside these
clattering pine limbs



Way

it is a
secret & saving
way through the

world in a
thin book on
a scrap of

paper a few
words jotted down
a prayer a

blessing an affectionate
nickname words arising
heard as if

dictation required to
be given back
where the building

& the wound
smooth over where
the vessel gleams



Here

it is a
blessing yes &
the twin engines

being & nothingness
motor across the
still lake we

wake & take
a morning walk
meditate coffee &

the tower for
active words friends
yes the third

one who walks
beside us is
it you? home

for lunch my
granddaughter asks are
you here now?



From Notebooks

---

Notebook #2 – page 33


2/6/07

seizure
or more likely it was
sees your or maybe you
were doing the seeing when it arrived
not as something to be seen but as the in
determinate wind in the pine branches
yes it is a hunger a
hunger for what oh
what

a time
to be here

*

2/7/07

erath co vina abdoo rach mee na
erath co vina abdoo rach mee na
erath co vina abdoo rach mee na
erath co vina abdoo rach mee na

soon too da li ma
soon too da li ma

*

2/8/07

tendon tenuous
learning takes its own time
tender is the
light