The Edge Of A Reservoir


   She told him

but waits until the lashes (lakes)

what do you see?


the sleeping sight

the weather of Mother

the wasteful alone     alove


  the edge of a reservoir

          so high up   (in your clouds)


           I am  a  fire  pet
                  she  said

   someone   is   the judge
        a  kindness of the hand
                              toward you

wisely  a breath

comes  to  being


  out of the language

of the loving


a relentlessness like
  the    leaves

             the grass is
the whole  world


as tall  as 
   you are

  as rhythmic

as you need
         to  be



                 I  think  maybe

you’re a contribution

of  pouring  stars
         down  my   shirt
                             he  says

but the  year wanders. they wander.

(back to poetry)