I HEAR YOU Don’t speak, precious one. I hear your cry a thousand miles away, the silent tears strangling your throat, burning your eyes. Come, young or old, and lay your head in my arms. My lips against your cheek, as I have so often…

HOUR ELEVEN moonbeams singing a lullaby everything is bathed in a glossy luminescence beneath the furrowed duvet, a wisteria vine sigh How to escape this earthly noise? pine tree in my tea-cup. ii. sweet drops on the pine cones resin tears on the thistle a…