 |
***
At
dawn, the snoring is still full blown,
a
fighter jet revving on the tarmac. My
wife
is a back-sleeper as was my father,..
|
|
***
Who
doesn't love the Ponderosa Pines,
the
enormous girth
of
their aged ones, the rough and orange
tractor-tire
..
|
|
***
I’ve
finally lost my own sunny disposition,
one
like these children on television possess,
these
builders ..
|
|
***
Drifting
in and out of consciousness,having
fallen from on high,one
dreadful leaf escapes the gutterand,
like a wet khaki..
|
|
***
Why
do you say I judge you?
How can you say you see itin my eyes?
I
don't judge you.
Eyes are mirrors of the soul, not the ..
|
|
An un-rhymed sonnet
|
|
A revisiting of rhyme after reading some of Stanley Kunitz Collected Poems.
|
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***
Rigid
rows where the green meets cement,
a crew cut held upright by that waxy sticky stuff.Perfectly manicured in this moment of..
|
|
***
Everyone
is born
with
a song inside,
an
incredible
chart-topping
hit
borne
on the wind
of
its perfect rhythm, ..
|
|
***
Out here on
our knees, smallest branches
from the
elm lie broken
like
our fingernails.
Spring&..
|
|
|
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