Spirals and Doors

The sun fades in liquid quick ripples, disappearing

somewhere near the first step on the porch

while a wind chime plays, its crazy tune

as they hang, like torn out tongues, to view in

pinwheels of pink silver color, as they spin 

Eyes or Ears

Bits of shell and slate

That have never fully

Been awake

Something that jumped out of a page or echoes

out of that lake, will you "hear us" the little voice

seems to say, as they violently twist to free themselves 
if they ever had a soul, its some leftover
lept over essence, a current holding onto life in wings
she carried them home, for their bones
but the house was just a space---
A small space you try to fit in, the dark place there
under the sink, that a child finds to breathe
then runs to pull and re-pull, shut the door
under and over, over and over
in some realm of an already forgotten dream

Never and Yes

She mothers a few tears, salt

In a dry plants dirt

A glow from a lantern,

Where everything is a branch