Hacky sack

He does not know

where it goes

but it does

it goes beneath,
it goes beneath
and behind
the fallen place.

the place where 

loneliness goes to lay

its frozen thought
on those

it tries to trap

the sack flips

from toe to heel
dragged by her shadow

beneath the light
painting the night

the pavement

and winters bite.

Free
her limbs

a prayer

a poise beneath ,

beneath again

behind,

looped
noiseless practice

a graceful arc

heel to heel
curved communion

arching grace.

Do not lay,

no need to lay
conceptions

holes

beneath

her feet

she liked roses

She liked roses

I have watched through nights

for the perfect rose

and would have reached through

black and twisted bars  

near a mansion had I seen one

but what I got was this

It is no perfected rose

for it grew in my own garden

and many times its mother thirsted

while I, sweating, 
neglected

to bring her water

So take it if you choose

wear it in your hair

do it. near a wild sea,

in wind and rain 

set its fragrance free.