Life Things


The writing has left

it rests far away

when it was close

it was closer but not as close

as far when far away


There is still life yes

a baby still new

a father still sick

a master unhere


I watch these life things gather height

the in held breath of avalanche snow

and dragon green of hurricane sea


I tend the wait

so the baby may speak

the father stand

the master glow


I try at times to name the wait

but it is too clear

like a good death


So I wait with the writing

of my son’s first word

my father’s straight back

my master’s raised hand

for the life things

to come close

and tell me their name


Written 2013

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