Confines
Wind in the wheat.
She hears the sounds,
a grieving similar to her own.
Thready clouds obscure
the sun, making a milky light.
Category / Poetry
One Voice
This is the sound of one voice.
One note
beyond music
shimmering like fire
in the darkest ghetto
Cold Comfort
Cold comfort it was, the setting sun’s
waning rays smoothing through the rain-
drenched tree branches, nature’s stealth
beyond the ravaged plants; cold
Day Floor-Fault
Where sea grounds bow skyward,
waters boil. Dome of heat and stretch,
as rifts and junctions
budge the wombly crust
like wrinkles in turtle’s neck.
Day Cyclone
Sky eddies swirl like the spinning dolphin
mad for his lover who watches in awe.
The tempest froths my surface skins,
and sprays torrents for Wind to scatter
into the puckered day.
Last Night the Moon
Last night the moon
Seemed awkward
In a semi-summer sky,
Yet bright still, like
A remarkable thought.
The Steady Simplicity of the Leaky Faucet
The decision seemed that much bolder
for the well of silence it sprang from
that late winter day, as I stood at the sink
and stared across the driveway,
the furnace having just shut off,
Not Yet
How many summer afternoons found us
at this lakeshore, unable to account
for our fate? Dear whirligig,
you want what is only possible
with stillness. We have yet to learn the names
Continue reading… "Not Yet"Among the Things She Does Not Deserve
All-knowing certainty in any realm
Bellyaching and its namby-pamby rationale
Commentaries on creativity when bodies are being pulled from rubble
Deep despair any time especially now
Electricity or the expectancy of electricity when you clap your hands
Heron
Morning
water color
mist muddled pond
whip-grasses
dark as pounded