Fall Offering #3

“The Hand of the Belfry Rings for Me”

The heart--
blindfolded.

Typical.

Gloves dangle overhead,
remain out of reach.

The rope lies naked on the floor.
Do I dare to cross?

My blood sways to the rhythm
of the stars moaning.

The moon rises,
and I'm without water.

Would you quench me?

The sun winks its message.
My ears are open to receive it.

“My Name Was”

Hi, how are you?
How have you been?

Been so long.

How are your kittens?
What? They're fully grown?

Amazing how time passes.

How's everything else?
Fine?

Fine.

Anyway, good to see you.
Good to see you...

“My Name Is”

A tree in bloom.
Fruit unknown.

My trunk expands
to reach the clouds.

“My Name Will Be”

Don't grief for the pot
that was never filled.

Emptiness
isn't a death sentence.

Neither is uncooked ravioli.

Sustenance
comes from many sources.

Take me.

My name is meat,
bread, cheese.

My name will give you
the means to be full.

Are you ready?

Consume me.
Take what you need.

My name will keep you whole
as you search for a life

replete with completed dishes.

You say I can't provide that.
Who says?

What keeps us alive
besides a grief
in never being filled?

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