Seacaller

What time?
Caper sprawling arcs
Arch upon the full mooncotton rills
In spill of tendril finding.
What looks, hooks its eye
In tall dark waysome whole of skirting sky.
Ball, flat upon the black.
Blotchy white in cedar, stone,
Our splashing birth.
Debris calls us forth
The mist entwining,
Lining out the shadows
Thorn in throne.
Toss across our path
Catch caught careening
Cool in round,
Lift to tide give
And sky to shape our day.
Sea-caller carry us upon the shore,
To dry, and eye
To coin a cast in swaddling rolls,
Tonight.

Supernova

I can't write stars,
Or the high mass flicker
Of their production.
The end they make,
I can't word it,
Thrown awash,
Their white-feather fiery song,
Of Bi..., of Ca..., of U...,
Of us.