There are too many bombs in the air.
There are too many screams in the night.
O’ Sweet Mercy, look at us
from your perch in the sky
and whisper to the wicked,
“Son, put down your knife.’
—
Continue reading “The Last Lullaby”
A Gentle Bed
Moss-covered loam
in shade, gentle bed,
exhales quietly ‘neath
pressing, weary heads. Continue reading “A Gentle Bed”
Whispers in Walled Gardens
Before I stirred,
I dreamt I heard
whispers in
a walled
garden.
Still Veiled
Sweetness! I dearly remember the aching flow
of time. The haunted Decembers, glacially-bound,
frozen, despaired. Still veiled, you refused to go
The Crows of Babel
Morning breaks upon Babel, crows caw, stirring from perches,
corvid-colloquialisms, complaints, single-voiced, to-all-alerting,
this, the gaping dearth, morsels missing, hungry bird, listening
to whispering passersby, ignoring their beaky-hissing, pinching
occasional ankles or errant fingers, angrily issuing edible edicts,
to hapless builders, millers, stonemasons, and/or tired children.
The Seeker
You call yourself a seeker,
forever forward-reaching.
But, you are not seeking.
You are fleeing your fear.
The Paper Kite
I climbed that hill too soon,
step-by-step, to a greater height.
A frozen wind caught my coat
and carried me away,
like a paper kite.
Her Roar and Glower
Between heartbeats
and the bursting
of tiny, tide-washed
bubbles, lurching
drifts of seafoam
cling to black stones,
whilst screaming, “No!”
into the roar and glower
of ol’ Atlantic’s storm.
Unknown to You
I am unknown to you, here,
in the high winds, kiting.
Aloft, hiding,
in plain view,
my rushing whisper
drifts downward
Beaded Manes
Roar amidst the clatter
of beaded manes.
Claw the bark and tatter
long words, writ upon
these vellum pages
and add a name.
Anastasia
Anastasia, at rest,
the dancelight is blue,
closed fist, she raises it,
thumbing her nose
The Quiet Warmth of Earth
A glorious supper,
the final feast…
as the roots burrow
and decompose
the “Me.”