E. Castendyk Briefs

Leaves no wind could wrench from earlier trees, in this windstill now let go. Their fall is soundless vertical as a spider’s twig- to- ground descent deus ex machina. . . . . Continue Reading »

Gibbous moon devoured by our shadow, gibbous heart quicker than moons to wane. High moon or rising night’s center. Eccentric heart tipped sideways like a mango. Waxing moonlight, douser of ever farther constellations; waning heart douser of brief and briefer hopes. Full moon, fool heart: . . . . Continue Reading »