Aloof, in the wings
Wait for energy
To burst forth
Thus conserving
What you’d not
Aback again
While you watch
The scurry


Call Upon

Call upon the enemy known
To pollute the still well.
So that poisons stir
With every sharpened jibe.
No opponent has breached the walls
Nor vaulted hard defenses
Vast swatches of damage done
By internal mechanisms.

Open Window

Hard to focus on the words
when he sits with potential
just over his shoulder
spilling across the rug like marbles.

Distracted by all that might
occur behind this backdrop.
A change of scene might possibly
firm his blurred edges to bold.

Suggestions of movement
from the next shadowed room
softened by fabrics and screens
set my mind to motion.

More fascinated with the hidden
than, the fuzzy fellow seated.
Lacking an anchor from his lips
I’m drifting to beyond.