They came and went more or less as planned. Crossing those bodies of water, leaving what they could not carry—fields of gorse and heather, outcrops of rock and sheep, dirt not worked into the creases of their hands—that last...
Read Moremakes a mad dash across the street, weaves its way in and around all those other people singing songs that have already been written. Snatches a line or two before moving on. Catches sight of its own reflection...
Read MoreThe tramps lie soiled and ragged, piled upon One another. I try to ignore them but They call my name; they cry so loud and long I cannot turn away. I pick and sort Through them, repulsed. Their horrid stench mocks me. Their...
Read MoreThe Lilies Soft yellow lilies rise above the round, flat, floating leaves in the upside-down sky of a hundred brandy-scented stars. Petals curve like a bird’s song, a fragile candle holder for the pistol’s trumpet of promise....
Read MoreBefore the light he does not need has come, before the caked spittle has been cleaned from his cheek, into the quiet world he calls–a lone voice into the dawn. Deborah! Mary! If truth be told, he does not summon my worn...
Read MoreHe stands in the batter’s box the boy was born quickly Digs in with his cleats eighteen years ago Solid arms hold the wooden bat wrinkled,...
Read MoreI could swear there’s a ghost in the cloudless night because I feel someone, something. An inky hawk against the moon peeks into the lacy trees. (He’s not now searching for the mouse.) A cerulean shadow speaks of the unseen. Am...
Read MoreYour eyelid twitches on this night Out with him whom I just met. He pretended not to see me or hear you. You’re an opera singer cranking pop tunes To keep him comfy. A shock of your hair Would escape. (But no, I mustn’t kid...
Read MoreThe streets Are a young man’s Game They Say But even the Young break Down, crumple Little left But rubble We’re not What we Were Little of What we Thought We’d be Our blood’s Thinning as Humanity Marches On There are Some out...
Read MoreIt is good to Describe Trees and leaves Mountains high Flowers blooming Love….love….love Laughing children Frozen creeks Dancing joyously Life beautify Harshness Hurtfulness Anger, pain Suffering ways Awareness Awakening Again a...
Read MoreLove makes You do Foolish things I say Loneliness does
Read MoreI am the second Mrs. Roberts. I’ve been married six times. Lucky, I guess some would say. Others would curse me. So be it. It’s my second husband, Mr. Roberts who stands out. And funny enough, I was also his second wife. We were...
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