poems as hand- and foot-holds on a glass mountain

Falling Away


A moment settles, a stillness

     barely echoing a soft rainfall

     a bowel-mutter of a refrigerator

it slips out of anxiety’s claws

an empty suit

freeing us of misread promises

we are not ones addressed

ones said it was to offer ourselves to us

There is no offering, only sacrifice

of windows mistook for mirrors

of ways for means

There is no wind

yet a curious native stirring

plucks at imagined borders

A sea-broad stillness needing nothing

a delight that swallows all dreaming

falling away not into ‘before’ or ‘after’

     but into its only-ness

a brief paralysis upon wakening, a serenity 

come of beginnings’ and ends’ self-swallowing

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