Waiting Room

I’m sitting in a waiting room And choose to write this verse; The snow is blowing hard outside The wind keeps getting worse — Winter once was magical With castles made of snow; But now the world is blank, and I Can’t see which way to go — The wait is over, and my child … Continue reading "Waiting Room"


At just eighteen, her shoulders start to droop: The drudgery of sub shop artistry’s Been rubbing off some of her natural shine, But hasn’t punctured all her buoyancy. I look, and wonder, at her haunted eyes, The father in me, I guess, coming out In wanting to be kind to her, some way: Some type … Continue reading "Elizabeth"

Vestiges of Industry

Vestiges of industry stacked along the water, walking here and looking with my wondering granddaughterSigns of what was teeming life veering off, exploring -- all of it seems magic to four years old absorbing

My Work…

My work might not seem difficult to those who lift or stand or strain, since most of it is sedentary using just my brain. It doesn't take an iron nerve, or being tough, or strong, or brave: but I assure you, it's enough to put me in the grave


I cannot say I understood how bad things were, and yet, I knew the look that came into her eyes when she would say the word: "poorhouse" -- an abject horror, and a dread, of what had been, and might yet be. This was her truth: and nothing mortals say or do, or ever said, … Continue reading "poorhouse"

Grateful Doubt

Two chairsExhausted whispersWrinkled clothesThe magic is in the everydayBook to readToast for dinnerA warm showerHow many years do we get?I do not know what awaitsBut I am grateful for this moment,These momentsFor real love isUnremarkable