One Day In Place of Another

she moves slightly ever so in
a gentle enough breeze
ceases to be 
then returns

diffusions of ocean light bluish enough
remnants of sun touching
deep into green leaves
the when of it
survives

fades then in the litter
of our tossing
thoughts one day
in place of
another

One Day In Place of Another
jppestana
8.12.2019

Bones

a senseless incessant breeze
withering days
leave me weak
like the waning light 
of a half-hearted day
say by the way
have you heard
I have turned into
something new
meet me in my new place
away from the old faces
old lines of old stories of life
wound deeply in a kind
of living crazy sin
and yes let the children skip away
and sing
and be
I can guess the time
I will walk alone for now
remembering nothing
but this sound of my bones
in some maddening
dream

jpestana
Bones
5.16.2019

The Call


a procession of thin clouds

brighter than the calling sun 

than finch singing 

ever so 

brightly


jppestana
The Call
5.13.2019

This Day Or Next

the sun is at a loss complete
yet the yard is ever brighter bound up in blues softer
the trees silver gloss are somehow
a thousand eyes envious upon
upon a bird surely golden
in its sensuous flight
but surely not in this sudden stillness
of this day
or next

jppestana
4.10.2019

Risk of Darkness

before me
dark horses move slowly into dusk
dust hangs low in their shuffling trot
confuses consumes the reddened horizon descending still
their wary glances from eyes too dark to see leave me
abandon all but
the risk of 
darkness

jppestana
Risk of Darkness
3.30.2019

The Shadows of Crow

ah the impossibilities of this 
deepest untroubled sleep
seeing the sparking edge
of a moon burning away 
what's left 
of my
deserted 
earth
the wind rises 
sings from the hymnal
of hills 
gospel 
of dreams
now the moon pillows me
soothes me in the tremors
or the coming 
shadows of 
crow

jppestana
The Shadows of Crow
3.27.2019

Hunter

winter rains race angrily at me from the jemez

race black gray across the staring faces expressions

of the deeply shadowed mesas

moments lengthen as the wind begins

to lick at pine trees whipping

finch hungrily feed 

flee to their juniper homes

I lick at my lips

taste what might be

the first drops of time

running from a 
hunting

rain

jppestana

Hunter

2.3.2019