Dredging That’s all that I remember. My mother looking up at six year old me from the bottom of the stairs, telling me grandma was dead. I probably cried when grandma died. I wasn’t allowed at the funeral and that’s… Continue Reading →
Ramblings on the Road I. And miles to go before I sleep at journey’s end, if I’m able to sleep. Oh, a moment for relief and respite, a few hours with eyes closed. But, whether it be for… Continue Reading →
Parted Love I stop somewhere waiting for you now that our roads have diverged and wonder if some path might lead you back to me. I couldn’t explain how to find this scenic outlook where I watch beauty from… Continue Reading →
Note: I originally wrote this poem as a response to a workshop writing prompt to create a cento, a poem composed of lines from other poets. The cento I created, below, consists solely of ending lines from published poems. This… Continue Reading →
Music Box The delicate ballerina’s twirl mesmerized as it un-wound, leaving only the ghost of music shimmering, a remnant in the stillness of memory, stillness of moments pregnant with possibility, as if another turn could somehow sound my desolate depths…. Continue Reading →
Your sons and daughters will prophesy (Acts 2:17) (After the image “Humid” by Joshua Eric Williams) Every so often the trees call, needing to impart wisdom. When their mystical chant beckons, I hasten to walk their forest abbeys, silent, listening,… Continue Reading →
Birds in a Mirror (After the image “Cloud Dance” by Claire Ibarra) Eyes locked with the old man, I’m reminded of stark trees naked in winter branches devoid of color, only a remembrance of beauty. Mottled with imperfection, his body… Continue Reading →
What the world needs Guiding taillights abruptly invisible, I gently step on the brake. Even the centerline fades as thick ground-fog hangs over the highway, camouflages oncoming traffic and the next bend. As I white knuckle my way forward, I… Continue Reading →
The Brazen Bard Expeditions are risky. Moonflowers unfold beauty into darkness from which stanzas of our lives flow down the page. Or not. Much too can be said in a short haiku. Or what follows may hollow that first line… Continue Reading →
A Lament for Truth I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word. – Martin Luther King, Jr. Tears caress cheeks as we gather to mourn: Truth is dead. It may have won some day but… Continue Reading →
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