grief – Thistle Thoughts

Freak Storms

there are brittle
cicada shells beneath
our feet, i’m in them,
i’m a shade, an exoskeleton

3 Tricube Poems

…the airy muslin
of the Spring death shroud…

where burning becomes
a state of being, & ashes
are the taste of comfort

…I couldn’t stop being entranced by Sissy Spacek’s freckles & her crystal blue eyes…

I can’t blame death

There’s a way back to blue
& to you, but we couldn’t
remind you in time

There is no
resolution
or solution
when a ghost
hops time zones