PASSING SEASONS

A homeless empty wind slipped the corner of late August, searching for the last remnant of summer, that final breath of warm air.   Cool nights marked the end and the beginning of another season. Daylight slowly drained away familiar voices and sounds.   The chance of the future depends on the passing of seasons. … More PASSING SEASONS

NIGHT ENTERS

 The oil of dark turned quiet. The gears of dusk pulled kneeling clouds to lay their praying hands over valleys where evening oddly fits like a puzzle.   The sun yields to a purple sky. Flags of death witness horizons loss of youth.   A cool brush of wind closes in around. Fields accept curtains … More NIGHT ENTERS

MORNING COFFEE

He survives the years and faces departed in early breezes; there are few now who remember him as a child. Tears stain everyone. His skin is smoothed. Fingers once busy warm in the sun.  His eyes once of youth and feet born of Mercury, rest willingly. He sleeps in parts.  Lightly at first and then … More MORNING COFFEE

BELOW ME

I kneeled to the ground, my hand pressed dirt onto its clean soft surface as pieces slipped between and dripped back to the common bond, the relation of stones and boulders and glaciers shearing at the land, leaving mountains unhooked, forming unstoppable streams into pulsing rivers, curving, carving, driving under then rising to the surface with … More BELOW ME

BACK AND FORTH

Cannonades of sound spilled out announcing the coming and going of time the salt of thoughts watered with oceans persistent waves like gladiators of foaming armies spreading wide the release of tossing sand and rocks seeking a new level unasked for until lifted by or rolled out to calmer decorated ergs waiting to be tugged … More BACK AND FORTH

ALWAYS MINE

Day yielded unwillingly to a shower of gray sky where stars faintly blink for attention.   We sat on a rock by the sea, its warmth reminded us of a cloudless August day. Receding emerald green waves wash over sand and shells releasing whispering sandpaper voices into the salt air we breathe.   Our words … More ALWAYS MINE

A CITY

The brashness of a gray afternoon curses at roadside bars, all night diners and clotheslines resembling sagging roadmaps. Mud flaps proselytize to the lost while angels search for the  abandoned; neon lights tempt the lonely from corners. In the distance, a city.  A breath spread wide of buildings and faces, where evil drains into collars … More A CITY

OUT THERE

I vision a place safe without loss, the beginning of new, the opening on all sides where anyone can relax and sing. It’s a shadow of a place, harbored beyond envy and hate, turmoil and strife. It’s the next train with an open boxcar.  A bus sounding loud on a dusty road.  A car with … More OUT THERE

HIGH GROUND

Innocent violence creates the sediment of the street.   The people, the open windows, full of colors, spirits lifting out of gray shadows and black roads.   The streets are never satisfied, always hungry, hands reaching Hammering voices, Words speaking loud and sweat dripping.   City spirits drift uneasy, searching alleys for faces hiding.   … More HIGH GROUND

NIGHT CIRCLE

Men absent of home circle the fire with wide brimmed hats. Eyes full of long roads and cold hands absorb the heat under windless dark skies.   Somber lips release words of low tone. Whispers merge with the snap of fire as quiet moods settle like cold soup.   Lines of smoke and sparks rise … More NIGHT CIRCLE