painting by hopper,poem by me

 at Stravinsky's bed and breakfast of nails



half-rosed
petaled failed
a diagonal
cut wing
falls into
each of our formless
silences that sing
in the reeds


we use
to carry
nothing
but winged seeds
in every how
that we soared


we tilled time
with our smiles
til a now came
tine-stealing at
our faith
in bites

we can't
even stand one foot
in the weight
of each other
shadow or light


as all we do
is fight
over how much sleep
we need
to bleed out
a cold
conducted
finale