the nursing home

the upholstery cleaner arrives 

memories erased 

 take me a photo

i do not want to be in it

if i like it

i will step into it

and meet you there

it’s early summer

there’s a fly on Buddha’s nose 

speaking in shadows

 

 silence is the fare of an open mind

 lady with dementia

gave me a house plant cutting

transplanted thoughts

 the retorts of instant rapport 

 the great plains 

at the end of a hot wind

three white clouds 

 plum blossoms

always too early

cold wind

it’s always sparrows

never birds of paradise

when the sun come up 

 i am moving the

trees and clouds are moving

moonlight’s company

 grey is the dust

that occludes the sun

lunacy in guilt

 eternal life

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