“i feel stars feeling me i am this one place here”—Neil
this building has four hallways
lined with comfy chairs
you’re down the one i’m not
sitting next to the window
sunlight absorbing fingers
typing eager, starry threads
poetry: hallway
Neil
poetry: just lean close, please
when you look at words long enough, you realize they mean. i am.
—Neil, unpublished poem
he was peter
and i his wendy
telling stories
of horse rides with cranes
of nursing babies
of watering gardens
and petting cats
poetry: dream cat
you used to come mewing
whenever i stepped outside—
a neighbor’s cat
who claimed my space
poetry: moonwalk
in this story
a summer wind
blew our hair
across our faces
and fat seagulls
ate bread from
our lifted palms.
you tap danced
across the bridge
and sang songs
of the moon.
mother said all
poems become words
and threads release
seeds. let’s harvest
another story, friend.
poetry: you are moose inside light and i am amethyst on shelf
“I am who I am meant to be. I am this poem.
I am moose inside Light.“—Neil
moose runs through stars
now
playing tag with light
his
threads collect cinnamon
pain
turned to bottled milk
absorbed
within the belly of a cat