13 February 2010 § 1 Comment

divided, thin and twisted waves bounce and reverberate
between the blended constellations before returning
here with seven condescending years of winterwishes
(and a poet’s compass-sense of mindful rhythms)

The dragon’s cave has been penetrated: our godzai’s-only rules are broken not just by sonnet length and the boastful ways of the villainelle, but by our decision considering the inevitable and what will come of it. They’ve kept us under lock and key, ball and chain, and isolation. Left to get high from a lack of oxygen or from rockdust that once served as pens, markers, and little plastic keys, we are hiding behind the written word in our smiles and contented silence.


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