Deep percussion of a passing tugoverlaid with the light rattleof incoming tide on shalewhile overhead falsetto gullsserenade in counter pointto natures steady batonbringing oohs and aahsfrom those willingto
Poetry
I have been writing poetry since the 2nd grade. Why stop now?
Poetry
Diving Into Rhapsody
Stand on the edgetoes curled coldand feel the breezewafting aspen whisperswith the sumac dancingto lyrics unheardin the blue light of dawnoverlaying velvet wavesof rippling breathbefore the firstpianissimo strainsrising
Poetry
Crowded Places
Crowded placesswirling likemaple walnutice creamcold but sweetin the momentswhen eyes meetand a tiny smileflickersbefore the tidemoves onwardleaving a memoryfaint but realin the plastic crowdthat surrounds us.Maybe one daythe
Poetry
That Certain Beauty
I saw that beauty once,through the window of a passing car,or perched on the naugahyde chairat the end of my melamine table. I heard that beauty once,heralded by
Poetry
We Have Warts
We aren’t perfect,too many cold nights.mozzies and humidity,I suspect.We say “Sorry!”far too often IMHO,though unlike our neighbours,when we say it, we mean it!We don’t treat our First Nationswith