scale

(the girl laughs at me for all kinds of reasons.  my voice is wrong, my inflection, my words, what is behind my words, my ideas, what is behind my ideas - what came before ideas?  even my knees are wrong, my body, my shape, my size.  my smell.  my smell is wrong.  i am about to speak.  i am about to think.  i am about to be wrong.  what?  what is she afraid of?)

dawn's coming

at the end of each day
a dirty fistful

each morning
a clean hand

another performance

my dear sweet daughter, both perform and do not perform.  
do you understand?  be yourself.

on the way to the performance

 

october tree

 

from:  Rememberance

 

And you wait, keep waiting for that one thing
which would infinitely enrich your life:
the powerful, uniquely uncommon,
the awakening of dormant stones,
depths that would reveal you to yourself.

 

~ Rainer Maria Rilke ~

 

(The Book of Images, trans. by Albert Ernest Flemming)