What Home Was


Summer waves lapping on an green rowboat
The smell of bait and fresh-caught fish
Light wind blowing through the bamboo trees
Sunburn on my neck and knees

And Autumns in that light blue coat
The crush I had on Jen’s friend Trish
The games of football in the park
That wouldn’t end ’till way past dark

Warm Christmas evenings by the lights
My parents strung up every year
The tree so large, so golden-starred
The carol singers in the yard

The Springs we played at flying kites
A go-cart we could barely steer
That old green rowboat’s faded prow
Like my green mem’ries – faded now

Clay Monsters


It is nothing to be proud of

So often
We build our heroes
From the clay of pervasive opinion
And the water provided us daily by
The shifting fluid of popular thought

Ungenuine and ugly
Creatures of our own devising

Never stepping far enough away

To see the monstrosities
We have wrought

For what they are

The Two Types


Life is dull, I need exciting
Life is stressful, I need peace
Your life doesn’t sound inviting…
…Your life puts me ill at ease

Let’s go out to where the crowds are
Or let’s not and say we did
I know about this hot new bar
What if we stayed home and hid?

You’re just boring, I need action
You’re chaotic – I need quiet
You won’t get no satisfaction…
…Have fun tonight at your riot…

Well, I Did Check —

The Full Circle

I checked with egocentric sports stars – no.
Then checked with politicians – no.
Then checked with political activists – no.
I even checked with religious zealots – no.
Finally, and most surprisingly, not even journalists
Have such an inflated idea
Of the sacredness of their calling
As critics

The Night She Didn’t Come Home

Perfect Dinner

The night she didn’t come home
He had made her a perfect dinner
He had rehearsed his apology over and over
He was going to make it right

Her favorite food
Her favorite wine
Ready at the time she would normally be home
Watching the time

He knew he had been wrong
So he texted her
That he had a surprise for her when she got home

But that night she didn’t come home
She never came home again
By the time the state patrolman knocked on the door
He was beside himself with worry
Then, with grief

The night she didn’t come home
He had made her a perfect dinner
But nobody ever ate it
Nor drank the wine
Nor heard the apology

And the last angry words
He had said to her
Still ring in his head
Where the wind sweeps restlessly
Beside her silent grave

The Song of Summer

Summer Song

Sing again to me of Summers gone by
When careless winds blew through flowing hair
Sing to me of time spent in admiration
In laughter, and in the music of new souls

The song I still remember
But I need to hear you sing it
Do you remember the tune? The words?
Do you remember Summer’s fragile kiss?

And whenever lovers play
Where the sea meets the sky
Underneath a drenching yellow sun
The song is still remembered
Still sung

Sing again to me of Summers gone by
When love burned wildly on our shoulders
And every night was spent
Only when we were