Reflections on a River
But this, though lost to the sight, was retained in the memory - St. Augustine, The Confessions I headed down that path as if would lead me…
Shifting of the Seasons
Vernal life spurts forth with foliage verdant-white Fragile leaflets fresh from earthen womb leap toward sunlight The grasses get some color back in their cheeks Avians return,…
A Field Trip
They wandered about the exhibit of the emperor long dead, though, no august history would inhibit boyish thoughts swirling in their heads. So, the whispers and the…
Your Old Men Will Dream Dreams
Regard that old man sleeping over there His nasal snores, his silver strands of hair That streak in patches all along his face And that stale smell…
Cicero on the Rostra
The flies buzz above the decaying hands, Whose subtle fingers once etched the republic’s last defense. The noble head, with pin pierced tongue, demands the shame of…
Not to Worry
Tomorrow will worry about itself. - Matthew 6:34 It’s not worth worrying if worse is to come, And though it’s easier said than done I, for…
Ithacan Lament: A Verse Response to Nolan’s “Odyssey”
Awake, and reenchant our drug-dulled hearts, sweet muse; The West is washed away and cast upon a shore Where twisters of the truth conspire to abuse Your…
First Words of an Infant Bird
Rise, my little wings, so others can sing How they saw me flying out of this tree. Right now, as I look up at the sky I…
The Future
This is the ninth year of regret. Luminous decay. Still thinking small — Cinnamon. Feet. Horses. Pink lobes. Graves of silence on bones sing, not All children…
Purple Martins
Return now, with your weightless arabesques. Let your sharp silhouettes pen a cursive script of poetry across a cobalt page of sky. Throw your weightless wonder upon…
It Falls To Fools
Oh, what is better than the burden of being wise being lifted? The wise have their answers– And their sorrows. It falls to we fools to dance…
The humming
It was not a night to remember, rather, a night to forget. Late autumn, my German Shepherd and I in a farm cottage on the far reaches…
The Forest
We found a fallen path in failing light Twilight deepening to a fragile night And searching saw the ash, well grown As wandered long amidst the ancient…
The Back Fence, 4 PM
The shadow of the feeder dangles slant from today’s gold dwindling scaffold. Winged jots record, on radiant boards, birds fanning and declining to the feeder. Smoke suspended…
CPR Training
The nurse had hair the color of a healing bruise and arms hard from pressing plastic breastbones. On real people, when you do this, you should hear…