We lose sight of the horizonnavigatingthe crests and troughs of an angry seathat is our lifefrom first coffee to pajama time. We lose sight of the big pictureattendingto
Poetry
I have been writing poetry since the 2nd grade. Why stop now?
Poetry
I’m Terrible With Names
I’m terriblewith namescuz they are labelsfrom someone elsewhile facesare homegrownwith youas you travel. Names define usin other peoples termsbefore we were wevenerating Uncle ‘Bud’or maybe a movie starmama
Poetry
Lost Friends & Two Dollar Boxes
it hits you funny,sometimes, death,like a sledgehammermade out of puttywielded by a midgetwith spasticityas a surgeonwould wield a knife I was at an auctionrural typelots of weldersand big
Poetry
While Cicadas Sang
Thirteen yearsburied ‘neath the loamin my backyardsilent diggingfar from watchful eyeswaitingfor a tender morselof fresh larvae. Thirteen years agoI was writinga special soliloquoyfor a special nightjust ‘An Ordinary
Poetry
Summer’s End
The news this morningcame with the tollof Tubular Bellsflying up my news feedlike a teleportationto my youthCanada – Russia ’72Paul HendersonThe Golden Goaland the tall manleaning on his
Poetry
Eternity Is…
Eternity is a song beyond timeor silence deeper than Creationcaught in the instantyou realize she has gonewithout a wordleaving behindonly a shaft of sunlightflickeringon her footprintsin the dust