OnceA woman and her husbandStopped at this place She, eight months with childHe, thinking about walking outAnd the drive had been a tense oneOld wounds reopenedFresh hurts on display And an old couple was thereAt the same timeLaughing while they pumped gasThey asked her when the baby was due She said, “One month.” The old …
Continue reading "Filling Station"
she broke out in fragility, twas written on her face – the best of her ability was covered, just in case the last romance of circumstance should ever come to call – (one should not have a viewing of this type of thing at all) the life of harboring her thoughts seemed right and good …
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When she was almost young, she slept Next to the fields of pure delight; When she went almost out, she heard Of secret pleasures in the night When she felt almost love, she dreamed Of freedom found in ecstasy — Yes, when she almost lived, she lived Just two doors down From me (“Almost” …
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Standing all alone Shoreside boy Has choices to make (“Growing Up” – 8-7-2014)
Hello, my friend. Here is the news: We’re fast within The life we choose For sure, we choose it Every day: To be out here And live this way For time has properties Immense, And choice is never just Past tense The children grew as children will, They each have left for pastures green – …
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A boy, I marveled at the clouds, So strange and wondrous in the sky; I’d spread my arms and try to fly, Admired by the watching crowds. I knew that I would not stay small, One day my shoes would scuff their fluff — But now that I am large enough, I rarely look at …
Continue reading "To Try the Sky"
There’s an economy of our desires Where we want more than we can ever get And day-to-day, as circumstance transpires We long to do the things we haven’t yet Some choices other things from us preclude While more than one desire within us dwells This is a fact not to be misconstrued By what we choose, we …
Continue reading "The Hidden Cost of Our Choices"
I softly knocked upon a door No longer mine for knocking, And saw within the empty room A chair still gently rocking It sat there, neat within its dust, More lonely now, than squalid; For what it held had gone away Where few now can recall it For love, it whispers in the dark, While …
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They couldn’t say what started the fire But the two of them found themselves In the middle of it The dry kindling of their desperately dull lives Caught flame Burning Out of control And she didn’t care For once she didn’t care what Other people thought There were no other people There was just her …
Continue reading "Catching Flame"