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“Winter is Death, Everything is Alive”

A collection of 21 poems mostly from 2015. Observations and impressions of life ranging from time spent in the nature to time with women to time staring at walls.

Wringing Rocks for Honey

Just like some calling sea bird,
the bartender fills the hour I am drinking
with humor so sweet and strong
that I can smell it beneath the bourbon on the air.

But while the night winds cooly down,
and a wild breeze blows through the door,
the women, the laughter, the smoke;
the ripe winter fruit compels me.

I am no quiet wishful creature—
tonight, I am all these things.

Later, I find that she stirs those same sensations:

the call of the sea bird,
the cellular laughter that penetrates bone,
the tang of bourbon and wood.

The wilderness.

I am hungry, but I am not hungry.
My arms are weak, but I can carry more.

Night and day combine,
like wringing rocks for honey.

The winging world unfurls;
and the night winds cooly down.