~unrest

come different, the same storm again

past tense of wind

tightening the rain on a dark house

where days turn into rooms with

long windows

where long moments suffocate

an unnoticed woman

as the light echoes sharp & spineless

deep in the periphery

dust settles the way plum blossoms

fell like haiku, candling the wax

of the poem unwritten & pinned to the skin

nine weeks north, sooner the shade thickens

to hold the shadows under the leaves

lah 5.14.17©®