The August Project

after all these years
the cats are back
and my mind still
has its dust

the moon trembles
rain as a leaf
is waiting to begin
this fall of night

the quarrel has no
extension and no
silence the house
isn’t still but holds

its own quiet

Comments

Popular Posts

Questions, but no answers: while editing a manuscript

Viva the Real - shortlisted!

‘The fast fold of fret lines’: Intimacy, ecopoetics, and the local