E soothing me
driving thru fall
red woods: we are
just going down
the road, the wheels
are touching road
as they should be
we are not in
a ship floating

the birds landing
in sync on a line


I want to touch
your moon fingers
and meaty legs
but bless you like
a brother, a married


D string snapping
in the night with
hard pluck, someone
playing in the night
someone walk out
onto the dock
with me, tip
gently over the
river with me
send soft winds
and warm birdhouse
clouds through my hair
through my yeses
that wish to grow
into sun

how I end
up rain
into shotgun
of black Cadillac
puffing on stories
of standing in woods
and not trusting anyone
to come near