stones skip

on face         of my twin –


he breaks       is put back

a flat circle     the light is

hanging        stars sit

a thread        breaks:


ravens           idiom of

grief              i cannot

find them        a home

can’t connect  them to another


above a city   there is no thing

to echo          in celestial

winking, how could i forget –


how many times

have stars sat

under sleet     winking.

 Benjamin Socolofsky