July 30, 2026
The moths have stopped circling the porch light, their wings now are as stiff as old letters. The night stretches thin — a slow dissolve of indigo into nothing…
July 28, 2026
We had just passed the Cat and Fiddle, right on the tops with a long, steep descent ahead…
July 26, 2026
The rain fell down, the marsh lay deep and wide, the small green singer raised his ardent plea — a pulse of life where hidden shadows hide, a call to join him in the waters free.
July 24, 2026
She sits in quiet disbelief at the table where cards are spread, offering her but scant relief from the sense of coming dread…
July 21, 2026
Living with you is living in a burning tower
Smoke billowing out the windows
as flames engulf all we built together
July 16, 2026
The comet is disappointing.
They promised, this time,
Bright and true, in daylight,
We’d see a trail half across
A bewildered sky.
July 13, 2026
Of fragile flesh they rise, then sink to clay,
Their moments framed by gazes keen and bright.
Adored they blaze, then slowly pass away,
Perhaps too long they lingered in the light.
July 10, 2026
I’ve broken free, escaped, and found my way
into a maze of books and magazines.
No minotaur shall hunt me in this place.
July 6, 2026
Somewhere nearby
A pigeon coos
A sinuous speech above me
As I lie sprawled on my bed
Near the windowpane
Where sunlight still spells warmth…
July 4, 2026
Barbeques are manned by men
in their fresh, well-manicured lawns
while laughing children play freeze tag,
babies recline in Mom’s embrace,
and hotdogs populate every plate.
June 27, 2026
June 26, 2026
I like that epigram’s a short
or witty aphorism sort,
that’s meant to make a reader laugh.
It’s not a thing with epigraph.