still the stars on and on 
when even the taste of this
earth has passed
away, the stars not
finished with the sky
not finished laboring
over wishes, imagine
our wishes going on
and on without anyone
there to see them
imagine the sky
still hanging there
like the roof of an old 
house no longer 
able to contain what it
held, without us, don't be 
sad, the stars never
needed us, they dreamed
us up to remind them
of wishes and sorrow
so reminded let us go
took back the dust
let the sky fill up
the sky, don't be sad
think how your breath
invented you to breathe
it, how your face 
invented you to hold
it like a mirror, how
your soul justified your
body so that it could
talk, in secret code, to
other souls. the 'you'
in matter doesn't matter
what matters is the 
light by whatever vehicle
bows to hold it and dies
holding it becomes it
on and on and so on.
​

​the leaves will be falling soon
like exhausted dancers
and only fire, snap of 
a thin match to newspaper
will hold back the colorless dark
in the season of sticks 
when the weary inside of me
complain of the sting of cider
the construction paper turkeys
adorning school windows
the empty bed and old sheets.
it will kill me someday, the fall
and I won’t even survive to 
take the first snowflake
on the bridge of my extended 
tongue.
​

leaves attack me
and stick to me like bats until I
am more leaf than man 
November, your cold, cold nails
I fall to earth palms turned up 
and by prayer falling inscribed on the
little least of all acorns, with an ant
for witness, I shall overcome 
witness me now as I, into the sun 
turn sideways and go
just another door, all this suffering 
Durga, you feed me the answer 
whole: take this candle that is thyself 
burn and be beautiful.
set it up now, a light to light 
the darkness.