Childhood was at times unchilded By adult-style intimations. There were knots for the tying, And cards to be shuffled, nails to be hammered, A score card for keeping, and a door With a key for unlocking. Such little steps served...
Read MoreMy sorrow was minor in the scheme of things, as Icarus says— weighing loss against luck. I gathered a bouquet of milkweed from the shoulder of the secondary road hardly travelled anymore, whisk of traffic from the parallel...
Read MoreModesty is the girl with a smidge of dirt on one cheek turning down an alley where the trucks park at lunch. She smokes out of the side of her mouth to keep her lipstick the color of chili, fresh. Hike them up, old girl, your...
Read MoreI’m convinced I must have hired myself out as a stand-in in some twisted Twilight Zone episode. TZ episodes continue to air here every morning; I take advantage of this timing to switch to watch those marvelous shows, giving...
Read Moreremembering that horse that tried to take me off trail it had to be tethered like this word and this word at a lazy time some time on Christmas Day wanting some freedom through Cuban sugar cane fields times elapsing stood still...
Read MoreAfter we’re gone there will be baskets of rocks collected from rivers and shores across years of travels unidentified keys that hang in a closet under the stairs or hide among mismatched earrings in a wooden jewelry box,...
Read MoreOne bedroom one bathroom tiny kitchen small living room corner apartment next to tenants’ parking garage queen bed new mattress, new sheets new bedspread blue and green flowers to match the painted drawers of the re-purposed...
Read MoreA hive of oppression, a honeycomb of cells three tiers tall, edged by catwalks, separated by corridors ironically named Park and Michigan Avenue, Sunrise Alley, Broadway. A door of iron bars, a toilet, small sink, narrow bed,...
Read MoreRummaging through a drawer I come across a key that I do not recognize. Perhaps a house key, maybe not this house, but another now forgotten. I should throw it out the locks are probably changed but I won’t, at least not...
Read MoreThe cat is lying in the sun by the window. Beyond the window dead leaves are blown about by a wintry wind. Pots that had held blooms of summer flowers, are empty now. The Dogwood, Crepe Myrtle, and Rose of Sharon are...
Read MoreToday I came across an old book of poetry that I had purchased but then forgot. Opening the book two white petals fall out – rose petals lightly tinged and pressed flat. So, who could have left this simple keepsake? For what...
Read MoreAngel, avatar you zoom to me under winter skies, through pine trees and swollen streams. You break the echo of my room, turn my gaze to the VanGogh prints and the spines of your favorite tomes on the shelves that frame your...
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