Beauty insideglowinglike a radiofrom 1943cracklingthrough the etherlike a love songbehind barbed wirerebelcrazybeauty stampedlike a placardheld highproud to behuman……a herothe Pope hatedand left usshattered ml’23 (Listening to ‘Black Boys
Poetry
I have been writing poetry since the 2nd grade. Why stop now?
Poetry
Wheels Turning
Wheels turning round and roundthe oval miles slippinginto an endless loopof smiles reflectedin the gleaming hardwoodand flashing lights. I stand and listenlaughter and musics’ universalblend of joy and
Poetry
Temporary Beauty
I plucked a rose oncefrom a gardenwithout permissionslicing it quicklyfrom the stemwith my jacknifeand carried it all dayin my pocketslipping it outfrom time to timeto smell the summer
Poetry
Lightkeeper
Dirty sock – hanginglifeless from the hamper rail,redolent of touch footballon the lawn,or perhaps the lazinessof an 11 year old boy,scrabbling in the emptyrecess of the second drawer.
