It seems my poetry is coming Up through my feet as I walk, And when I cannot get out in the weather And enjoy a…
Comments closedIt seems my poetry is coming Up through my feet as I walk, And when I cannot get out in the weather And enjoy a…
Comments closedSome days the poetry Races out of me like buckshot. The day strikes, Either through mischief or intent, And images swarm Like a horde of…
Comments closedTrek in summer’s heat: we’re lost, dizzy in thin air – suddenly, a path. Deer droppings lead us To water’s edge: Shh! Not alone! A…
Comments closedWhen I saw the city in a fog – the towers dimly there, losing their heads in grayness – I suddenly knew the earth had…
Comments closedSo much rain has come down Seems that everything has melted And become a liquid. The sound of the downpour Has been embedded in my…
Comments closedFrom the warm, liquid darkness of my womb To the glare, blare and cold of an all white ward, He arrives: my helpless, raging child.…
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