Yet the hunger remains, and even today /you can seem them on the horizon / like an impending storm

Not in any lifetimes / will the damage be undone.

She rests / on a damp rock / that juts from the lake—its tongue froths over / her perch.

And all the gray places / We never before breathed into being.

A collection of dreamy poems

and I want the fossils of us to live in the rock long after we die / after the great great grandchildren of our generation die

I want to go back to the crush close push press / of unfamiliar bodies, sweat stink and soft punch / of day-old powdery perfume

As, scrabbling tragically he slides / Into breathless air, so thin, to land / With an unechoed thud, instant husk,

Everyone was hungry. Everyone / pulled their arms and legs tight against / themselves, feeble cocoons.

What can I offer this strange creature whose / slowed heartbeat is the opposite of mine?

Belongings dispersed and distributed / Are treasures in some other troves

Lately, the coffee has been strong, the friends / plentiful as maple keys spinning on the breeze

One hour a day I trade / an urban jungle for a garden / bed where compost soil rests