Across the miles I feel youwatchinglower lip underbiting down hardand wondering…yes, I miss you…And in the spaces of timereserved for nothingI hear you callingpointingto where your hair streamslike a wave in the waterhappy eyessmirkas you reachmany years awayone finger pointedto my heartwith a touch like lightning. ml-2002
Poetry
I have been writing poetry since the 2nd grade. Why stop now?
Poetry
The Scent of Sunshine
We are the scent of sunshine,drifting, soaring like butterflieso’er fields not yet mownto land upon an apple limboutstretched and hangingverdant with the nectar pommeneath cotton wool and cyan skythat stretches far beyondthe waking call of baby’s cry. We are the breath of moonlightyellow streaks on placid pondsor winking through charcoal
Poetry
Colours of Joy
The song is blueocean wavescrashingagainst a topaz shore‘neath starsexplodingviolet – magenta – greenand rosebudsfluttertiny crimson heartstwistingin the breezebeneath his fingers and then… it ends. inky curtainsshut against the nightand tiny stars disappearin puffs of yellow dust. ml’23 (Listening to David Gilmour ‘Comfortably Numb – Live at Pompei’)
Poetry
A Day of Lumps
White wispsstruggle ‘neath navy capsas we honourthose who wear themin the wind and colda sea of poppiesat the eleventh hourstrewn on the tombof a young manwho never bouncedgrandchildrenon his knee. Today is pridememoriestraditionsand lumpsin my throat. ml’23
Poetry
Wooden Ships
Wooden shipsbatteredbrokenon the beachin a blood red tideebbing the souls of childrento seato join the ageless sirensdriftingin the gardens of kelpmere yardsbeneath the marble stepsof a 5 star hotelredolentwith the smellof a thousand touristsbroilingin the sun. ml’23
Poetry
Win
Cross the field scrabbling muddy from the brookwe run on oblivious to the painshooting bolts of electricityup and down the shattered tendons in our legsor the burning lungs that remind usto quit smoking next week. To the forest surging, a wave of sweating bodiesmoving forward on the tide of our