Beneath Stones


Accidental Clyfford Still, Yakushima Island.




Beneath Stones


The moon is a grey wisp of lint in the navel of this

dark belly of a sky.


And the stars are smothered in their sleep under a

quilt of murky clouds.


There’s the polite applause of waves committing suicide from the

arena of a cove.


And a criminal breeze makes its getaway under the

cacophony of quiet.


But listen.


Vines strangling wires.

The clench of petals. 

Molecules rubbing up against each other.


And the rustle of worms

Beneath stones.


Yakushima Island. Winter, 2011







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