CORNER SHEPARD

a gravel voice dirty hands fall and winter in his hair fire eyes looking for a curious glance as he points up signaling the end, suggesting everyone line up under stars and sun as arrows target the weights and measures unlocking the door within you

OUT OF PLACE

we fear the stranger fallen from grace shaken, unsure   hair snarled like side yard vines a reminder of someone chasing you in dreams   the eyes, hoping for a sympathy gaze   for coins a cold meal, from a warm heart   he knows he is out of place, searching for someplace else  

OUR DUSTY ROAD

our car lights cut a shinning path over a dark surface as we pass below boughs of great trees   I lean out the window watching leaves twist as we hurry past   stars blink on a dark infinity sky   warm air rushes through my hair, my eyes blink with excitement   our street … More OUR DUSTY ROAD

TRAPPED

Observing the art casually standing lightly combing her hair the painting shouts out creating a mythical character of many faces without fear a champion of gardens the temptress of storms and mid ocean currents her authority stands on the dust within the tiles beneath her the foundation of the colors drawn from them half a … More TRAPPED

ONE PAST YESTERDAY

I pulled down a dream. Opened like a present. I feel a full sun warming me; breezes reinforce the moment. Beach grass bends to rhythm. Bicycles, open shirts, uncombed hair.  Faces without voices.  Water reflections. Warm freshly tarred roads. The fragrance of low tide. Corners without boundaries. Each day writes its own menu. Radios speak … More ONE PAST YESTERDAY

THE HEART OF SONG

Two blocks into Harlem.  White shirts, black ties, flowered dresses, patent leather shoes, tattoos and beautiful hair; the streets are always alive.   The beat mixes up.  The man with a full beard smiles, exposing a picket fence for teeth.  Conga drums call out the dance in people.  Red and purple cotton hats jive like … More THE HEART OF SONG