May Day

Bells
lifted the dawn
out of its warm fog

Barefoot
on the quad
you felt the clasp
of dewy grass

My foot
a perfect form
our feet met
sole to sole

Lammas

An unreconciled departure

We should have talked
sometime
by now

The sun retraces his steps
walking down the drying skies

The waxing afternoon moon
adds her pink droplet
to the paling blue

All Souls

A century ago
the drying field was
infiltrated by saplings
taken by beeches and oaks
from stonewall to stream

News reaches me
you’ve pulled up stakes

Forgetting
is just another
forest path
that’s lost its destination

Candlemas

Breath freezes
in the nostrils
flesh cowers
around the bone

One candle offers
a lightform
pulsing blue
under a smear of smoke

I would become the spirit
of a tiny flake
subliming in midair
long before any touch