Inequities

Each of us Looking for a space To become On differing ground And sunlight In others’ shadows

The Chimney Stays

The house is gone, the chimney stays, Remembering the strength and blaze When he was best, and part of something Lost and left in yesterdays. For lives go by in blurs so fast: We get wrapped up in worries massed, And realize, then, far too late That we don’t get to pick who’s last

A Rhyming Exercise

it seems a bit insidious to be so darn fastidious but still it is less hideous than metaphors invidious for i deal in comparative, and enigmatic narrative, and see no real imperative for sentences declarative and it can be frustrative, these things expressed in dative; surreal, but connotative, and on good days creative, so thank … Continue reading "A Rhyming Exercise"

Rose’s Diner

When Rose’s Diner closed It wasn’t banner news; The smell of coffee, clinking cups Moved past any reviews And into realms of memory. Once I here, with my boy Would sit and laugh of mornings In our unknowing joy; But life tears down what it builds up, The tiny ways that we’re bereft: A 1914 … Continue reading "Rose’s Diner"

Dreams Beneath the Autumn

She dreams beneath the autumn In tales and fantasies, As sunset falls upon her face Enrapt, and at her ease — The hours shifting for a wage Consume her energy each day, But here and now she reads and dreams And gives all that Away

The Last

A fall day like the others, With summer lately past; Two voices on the lake again, As fishing lines were cast. Then we recalled the first time. When I was only five, The air full of excitement, Just to be, to be alive —- That was awhile ago, now. Some twenty years have passed: Then … Continue reading "The Last"

A Storm

A STORM is coming soon, and we will see If humans conquer nature after all; It seems to me more likely the reverse, Or else we would live longer without pain, And things would be more better than more worse. The clouds that gather do not know our names; The viruses we spread heed not … Continue reading "A Storm"

between the words

between the words live all of those feelings we keep, and those that keep us warm in our cold beds at night, or shivering in warm ones. hearing always, then, is as much the heart as ears; truly seeing is about presence and non-presence, all that is there, but implied.