The tremors of silence like fingerprints
Drawn down the spine in goosebump riddles
Allocating leaves and stars and abstract poetry
Rattling the afternoons and calling out the night
Dusk is the space between my two front teeth
Death is a shadow of a shadow that has a life of its own
Molecular patterns, genomes, fractals, gravity
Tee shirts, concrete poetry, coffee stain, good shoes for walking
The tremors of silence like fingerprints
Drawing up the spine into an arabesque boom
Like fairy tales burnished with thorny truths
Unsquared by nebulous pivoting and terrifying beauty
Overwhelmed and brilliant in brevity
Yet on and on and on to visit the vast swelling of sensations
The dwindling down to the fine points of light and dark
Mixed up and half erased yet beaming with more awe
And guts and ambulatory genius and wrought
Along the rivers, through the alleys
Across the fields, let these strides wreath
The lonely, the lost, the joyful, the realized, the naïve
The untucked dusk
After a day of rain