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.
June 22, 2026
June 21, 2026
Enchantment swirls on this, the shortest night
as moon glow’s humid breath among the trees —
June 21, 2026
Father’s Day. Another way to older get — and yet, I bet we feel younger with a hunger thinking of the ones we love...
June 21, 2026
Get up before dawn with bright beams, hunting worms. Gather rods and reels. Bobbers and hooks make the tackle complete.
June 21, 2026
A million times, I needed you. A million times, I cried. If love alone could have saved you, you never would have died.
June 18, 2026
The late hours
of the night
are for poets, owls and toads
some who fill pages with poems,
pensive and rotund