God Who Knows

A couple of poems appear here - Angle Issue 6 -

Noon Bell

Breaks radio silence, thickens

in fog, tasks through the transom

of my head.

Sad eyed lady lay down.

There are no answers other than

these.

What’s this shell I’ve found

have to do with

God who knows.

Late march, winter takes spring back,

snow falls through the

streetlamp’s halo.

Sad eyed lady I gave you the shell I

set on the bookshelf to remind me

of her.

Hour’s in my skull like a newborn’s

crying, wolf-vicious, a wintering

only God who knows.

I can’t unwind a road

to take you back to the sea I named

for her.

I turn you down a grey street toward

the widening mouth of your life,

may you find

flat green stone, driftwood smooth

your palm leaves no trace, no spaces,

only God who knows

the part of anything that doesn’t

give, the fear alone, no echo

in the wideness

of this world.