Three Poems 
for David Paradine 


Liminal 

The moon is nearly full again.
It appears out of nowhere
as you do, my friend
a ghost casting light
on my clouds
suddenly.

Like the moon,
you are almost 
the wholeness of yourself.
My brother,
how you shine.



From Tangiers to Manhattan

though neither of us live
in either place
we sit in the kitchen
sharing bourbon
intertwined like roots



From Idomeni to Hartford

after the bitter medicine
the kill is nearly full again
it appears hour of nowhere
as do you, my friend,
a ghost casting light
on my clouded
suddenly

There are three doors
and I stand in the threshold
liminal
You hold my hand 
I walk through

and wake to a jungle of birds
and a boy collecting stones
to remember where he's been