Diary

behind my house
is an envelope
there, i hide letters
written by my eyes
on the waveless page
of the evening lake
to the dock
and broken willow
that weeps tears
of yellow leaves
before its time
stars and sometimes
the moon served
as witnesses
on New Year’s
a meteor sealed that night’s note

i think it must be
packed overfull
for i found a
piece of my soul
floating in
the naked sunlight
yesterday

i wonder, will the sea
be a better diary?
waves may turn
the page too often
and seagulls be
an overcommon

exclamation mark
it is a wonder to me
how the inanimate
can take such a
hold on the heart