it's happiness that's unfamiliar, that glow of know- ing home, that i belong. it's this, this disconnect, this ground level lights dimmed, this narrow narrow- ing. this swallowed muddy pool, this, this is familiar.
March 24, 2022
Category: Poetry
snow globe I need you to stay home snow globe you don't need to be okay you just need to stay home snow globe until I get there snow globe you wait for me you continue to be snow globe you don't know how much you mean to me snow globe you stay there you wait for me snow globe I'm coming home
March 15, 2022
I occupy no permanent space I move I'm already gone I'm a construct an automaton in auto motion rotating around time clock collaborator in time clock out of sync out of touch adrift inconsequential a product a service I move I flee into clouds like stepping stones into flood lamps in motion afraid to look up to see a minneola sunset wheeling overhead like smoke like dust like ripples on a pond to watch some other construct in motion rotating outward toward the infinite exhale of the cosmic microwave background I move on I'm already gone.
March 9, 2022
a poem doesn't have to be special a poem just has to be what it is
March 7, 2022
false spring wrings out tshirts amplifies birdsong deepens brick into clay folds clouds into steamy gem studded panes salt stained boot laces winter coat pulled from its hook with a sigh
February 26, 2022
hidden heart a pitch pine ugly asymmetrical offering no sustenance no shade unappealing unyielding brittle bark drifting down dusting crocus pink dandelion a weepy volunteer of waste places unsuitable subject for painters and poets no buoyant flourish no flashy shimmer no rustling whisper stark and still austere shadow making no promise holding no confidence asking for nothing granting only its stature its deep roots its enfolding of earth and sky and a moment to remember or to be forgotten
February 19, 2022
storm tossed mast electrical pole sheets of snow hiss shoreline crashing creak of spruce towering clouds doom purple close of day as wind scours the streets clean like the sea I'm going home
February 19, 2022
Life's beautiful compromise is knowing I'd do it all over again to be here with you.
February 19, 2022
Green growing-things stand fast asleep beneath the churning sky. A breath of storm arrived that morn', a gusty, cloudy sigh. Fitfully, uncertainly, the snow begins to fall, its crystal down a formal gown on sapling straight and tall. Raw the norther's voice becomes in squalls and bitter frost. Above the gale of icy hail the sky itself is lost. Long into the black of night the blizzard's will is bent, 'tween limbs and leaves the wroth wind weaves a tale of harsh torment. Sharp upon the distant hill arrives the edge of dawn. Storm's icy reign begins to wane as snowdrifts gape and yawn. Silent flee the ragged clouds and so begins the day so short and cold it soon grows old and fades to solemn gray. Beneath the sky the growing-things now sleep in blankets white. Their tranquil dreams still filled with beams of springtime's wholesome light.
December 30, 1999
when i count my blessings i count your friendship foremost among them.
February 12, 2022
