BACKYARD TOWN

an open window,white curtains attempting to escape windward   below, a dirt alley between wooden shacks   a train yard, open empty boxcars, idle iron heat, miles behind, miles to go   lumber to be loaded, men with caps sit shaded like tumble weeds waiting for a wind of orders to move

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TOP OF THE STAIRS

candlelit shadows collide as hands reach and then withdraw in the room upstairs soaked with comfortable aromas and layers of dust where men with rough shirts and weathered hands toss dice at the crease of wall and floor smoking cigarettes speaking softly when the dice bite back or rise for the moment with luck

BACK ALLEY

a single line of open space, a passage between aging brick walls shadowed with moments of sun, where lies and promises pause randomly, standing unsteady in conversation with no one or privately with equals, whispering like thieves, discussing secrets until choosing separate paths to unknowns

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  

KINGDOM OF STARS

Cloudless night sleep forsaken for the lack of dreams   walking softly outside under a carpet of stars shadows from branches are cast onto a narrow dirt path   light breezes disturb wax twisted leaves, a fright to imagine if it were ghosts moving about   there is a sense of being unearthed and homeless … More KINGDOM OF STARS

MEMORY GHOST

      Railroad Avenue. Cinders and broken glass. Warm engines blowing smoke. Old men with hats, suspenders, stained work boots and pants. Great stories of Louisiana bayous, marshlands, mountains and oceans. Empty freight cars transporting lost souls and homeless dreams. Wooden platforms, benches carved with names.  Trackside families. Steady work. Scars and sweat. Creosote … More MEMORY GHOST

A MAN WALKING

His shoulders sat strong with moving, powering forward claiming the path cut for him with serious eyes. Arms found comfort with swaying, claiming the air like long lazy summer strides reaching into dusk.   Suspicion hung curtain thick on his blue well worn shirt from faces seeking questions. Through the crowd past open fires where … More A MAN WALKING

CAFFEINE DAY

A cloudburst of eyes and thoughts jump from mental elevators to the tongue, releasing words from the king of hearts.   A cattle stampede of cabs hustle into position for the bullfight over a dollar; the language of hurry fills the street.   Smooth bright jazzy sounds flow like warm mercury from a bar. Smoky … More CAFFEINE DAY

HER SPACE

She was dancing. Moving tidal hands out and back. Her neck swayed like a windy willow branch; sideways, over and around, she conquered all the air. Barefoot on October sidewalks. A royal scarf Isadora Duncan would have loved. Paisley red orange blue skirt. A bandana with beads tipped releasing Christmas noise. She smiled at everyone, … More HER SPACE

ABANDONED SOULS

Broken glass, flattened fences, subways sing the language of city blues, not counting bruises or blocks with empty parking lots that mourn the loss, not knowing how to cry.   Factories out the country, signs say keep out as men without gloves and collars up spit on the properties that once supplied their families well. … More ABANDONED SOULS