the air swam a little different in the days following the fire as though held in a state of impassioned disbelief an imposed shock or awe – in breath not quite lost but caught – by oils, and the scene of now blackened embers, charred brick beams of the roof…

The Searcher came in search To find messages from a multitude of hearts White rose I picked up from the pavement  During my first departure  Air rose dipped in the red ink Changing color Making rhythms in a dark room I painted  Your face with a clean brush Why are…