L A S H E R A X H U N

the worn warm leather
clasps a dryer tired shirt
with frayed collar
and dog chewed legs
of denim hauled across
the boney haul
of journeys
tested and bested
and forgotten

Worn buttons
like ragged hair
and finger smudged
glasses

melted ice in drinking
glasses
ghosts of drafts
from cracks and
lairs
beneath the stairs
and attic door
squares
the brusque
reading glare
bulb
in its metal glove
on a desk of gauntlet
ruins...the paperworks
strewn

lash the branches
whip winded
and moonstarved
gleaming
beckoning limbs
and my reflection
staring
whom
and who
in all the where's
and weary why's

force myself a chapter
the sharp flavour of
the ink...the dark tobacco
hint
the glasses righted
full of a page like sails

and without a trace
of an entrance
you are there
immured in the
canvas shoes
and cedar taunted
clothes
your hands restless
on the charms

The starfish

An Ebony box
with wildwood
cigars
plantation perfume
from blossoms
in twist cap
jars

and the night
dark bereft
of stars

as sure as the
violence of winter
like a friend

I miss you
over and over

your eyes
like lashes
of love
when we bent
to break
the rules
of the hard
luck
school

...