Snow lies thick and immovable, covered now with ice. This glue molds the white into impossible formsLike jokes.Their hilarity is solid and unchanging. I’m wearing pink pajamas with little monkeys leaping all over my body. This humor must be catching. … Continue reading ODE to Morning Snow
I breathe in this morning air, inside this house. From the outside, this house is pale yellow and dwells among the last few leaves of autumn. Lavished with gold and orange and occasionally a deep scarlet, this little house sits here with pale yellow walls holding it in place. Inside this house, three small dogs sit beside me on a large red leather sofa. I speak into my phone to record these thoughts at this moment—8:48 a.m. I’m 71. I feel soft. This skin holds me together, inside some bones are breaking down from overuse. Too much firewood for the … Continue reading From One Coast to the Other
Echocardiogram or Thinking of Peggy The tech tells me to lie on the table; she explains that I won’t be able to see the sonar images she takes of my heart; (I will be on my side.) I’m disappointed. … Continue reading Echocardiogram or Thinking About Peggy
Everything moves The trees sway, whispering Small secrets only Bernie can hear A crow calls https://youtu.be/0DO1SyhdmfI Continue reading BERNIE in the Wind
Bang, crash, grind – inside the tube, an unrelenting rhythm, sounds that slice my brain and blip their nebulae across the screen; I think I feel the piercing probe, the fractals through what might be my brain, if not, the … Continue reading BRAIN ARCHEOLOGY
So now, you’re gone; my tears still fall a bit in gentle waves—a moment’s shocked surprise to find your hat—the red one—that used to suit so well, as pert and antic as your eyes alight at church or coffee … Continue reading Mama’s Little Red Hat (A Sonnet)
night shatters shards cutting the wind dawn is still Continue reading HAIKU