When the crumbs fall

Schonmaier Nova Scotia lake.jpg

into my cage, I taste

Lorca on my lips.  why

had I forgotten

 

the stars? during

all those summers

the water stroked

 

my skin as I swam

in the night’s mirror

note after note

 

the stars inked

on the score

sheets of the sky

 

and when I play

their songs

owls

 

call me from

the dark opposite

shore

 

From Dust Blown Side of the Journey (McGill-Queen’s University Press)