willow

She lay on the ground head propped against the willow tree, a lonesome Grace, spent from dance In her eyes lived a deep, inherent sadness, delicate, and always weeping… as the leaves of the willow around her billowed like a shroud for pain  

summer breeze

the Aeolian song of chimes outside my window deliver me to peace as warmth and wonder caress my skin. petals dither on stems and branches and fall in velvet kisses to the grass.

river

It happened again this morning. And sometimes I think,             ‘your words                   will             flow into my heart.’ My adder tongue rests in my mouth as I refuse to turn my rage on you like the Ripper’s blade. Splitting a chasm deeper than these years of erosion. Yet the river of your tongue flows, source…

Linear Friendship

you did not know that too much wine makes me talkative, yet you call yourself my friend. you have never read a single line of my poetry or fiction, yet you call yourself my friend. your thoughts are an empty column. (my thoughts spill across pages, ones you have not read.) your conservative views enrage…

Autumn

autumn spreads its back like a calico cat. the trees and grasses blush under its cooling kisses. the night pulls down in lines of blue chasing red, as campfire light bursts embers into the crackling air. the welcome colors pull in around you with the warmth and comfort of your grandmother’s patchwork quilt. I wrote…

In the woods

In the woods, we made peace. A day spent together, a 10-mile hike. Stop to gaze: a herd of deer, in a glade—30, 40, 50? The path washed out by flooding, stuck in the mud, and laughing. The sun kept time overhead: counting out chatter, dreams, secrets, laughter, plans. I remember how you could tell…

summer

grass made green, burned brown. rivulets filled, cracked dry. heat begged, cursed. summer song reaches its crescendo as we sigh welcome to the first cool nights.   I wrote this draft as part of National Poetry Writing Month. I hope to collect these works for a mixed media/writing piece I am working on entitled Love…

Early Spring Mornnig

periwinkle crowns peek through the melting snow. fog spreads full like a nesting bird on a snowy branch, shivering, shivering. your breath hovers, gray upon gray, making the purple-headed blooms brighter still. I wrote this draft as part of National Poetry Writing Month. I hope to collect these works for a mixed media/writing piece I…

rainy sunset

daylight smuggles a few more minutes before the setting sun. birds settle their final quarrels as night whispers hello. the patter of rain, a fickle lover, leaves one for the other.   I wrote this draft as part of National Poetry Writing Month. I hope to collect these works for a mixed media/writing piece I…

Better Days

I yearn for better days, as I lay new bricks in the garden path, watch a young man’s baseball game. Laugh with loved ones at memories, marbled with pain and fondness. The sun on my skin, the chatting of a warm stranger, a simple meal shared, and looking back, see today was a better day.  …