Sun turnstiles
and I am revolving
around you. In orbit,
you do not glow, glitter,
or emanate a light source,
life source. You are a moon,
created out of cataclysm, but
reflecting light nonetheless
you are the center.
Writer in San Francisco, CA

Slid into heaven
Thanks to raven wings and bones
It is a dark room
Scattering of beads, thunder
I wake in the morn
poem written in Tanka form
Sun turnstiles
and I am revolving
around you. In orbit,
you do not glow, glitter,
or emanate a light source,
life source. You are a moon,
created out of cataclysm, but
reflecting light nonetheless
you are the center.