year's love

gilded gelding lover:
let me receive your calm

stolen sunshine swimmer:
bobbing in filled tub of balm

woods-walker, feeding forests:
dancing in sky-lantern's light

whisp'ring wool-winder, quiet:
wrapped in warmth and darkest night

mine

i only have pale skin,
in fine lines little mystery.

absent the exotic,
erotic promises.

in this telling, an ordinary tale.

home again

i come from away (CFA), as they say in st. john's. but now i'm home again. this is going to be a year of extreme motion. loco!motion, for sure. the highlights are likely to be - brazil in january, the far north-ish for 6 weeks in the winter, somewhere else (maldives perhaps?) in feb, chile in march, and serbia in august. add to that a hectic schedule of meetings and placements in various ontario cities and towns, and then some. guess it's a good way to test the theory that i'm a nomad by nature after all (a nesting nomad, maybe?).

in any case, st. john's is beautiful, and the people as friendly as they are reputed to be. had a lovely time.

it's after 2 a.m. must be september.

but i'm enjoying your words.

364 days

364 days till the next year is added. had a lovely day, even if it was the last first day of school ever. and i learned to roll a kayak, in preparation for whitewater kayaking this week-end. it's only more of my favorite people that could have made it nicer.

i am home

once again ensconced in my little 2nd-floor apartment. the plants are here, the clutter, the sunshine, and the lake.

it's the lake that i've missed, these months away. tonight, as the clock marks the turning of the date, i should be in her arms, feel her cool fingers on the skin of my belly. that is the way to celebrate the passage of another year, and to welcome the last days of my fickle decade.

endless 8

let me count the ways,
for there are many:

one membery deep, but not forgotten, plunges into
two lips gently parted, whisp'ring softly
of three lines of words, and again of three little words
and then the four letter words - i want to, let's
and five, four, three, two, dive into
dark waters as the fires, rageing, heat the little home
at 678 East Greenbay Road and a tangle,
entangled in 8 limbs, complete with tentacles

for to carry us away one day.
let us carry them all this way.

this is the way,
to count the ways.
this is the way.

susurrus

his silence
hence his fill
of fun

hers mourning
lined up mornings
empty

two frenzies,
both sides
of their island