• Eleanor’s azalea is in bloom She planted it years before She could see it, from her sitting room Near her front door • Aggie’s trees are growing strong When I was I boy, she would scold me for climbing…
Eleanor’s Azalea
Category: Poetry
2:15 am
The air in the room sits still It’s not hot or cold, it’s indifferent • Plainly, I can’t sleep My mind running in all directions Possibilities stirring everything but the air • My purpose calls from several directions In silent…
Valentine’s Day is Over, The Argument
In my rearview mirror, I see A turquoise truck, GMC Two people are in it Heads are moving, all around Side to side, and up, and down • They’re arguing • Valentine’s Day is over! The woman’s head is much…
Say What, World Listens, Who Hears
“How was the tilapia?” “Somebody died in a fog.” •••••••• “Sine Pari,” says the bumper sticker, “I ask what does that mean?” She says, “Without equal!” ••••••• Bullet Head Doogan, said, “One day I think I have it figured out…
Snow’s Reflection
Blades of grass protrude from fresh snow It continues to fall A sculpture ponders its relevance Benches remain empty How much does thunder weigh ••• Please help us by shopping at amazon,com through this link! Thanks!
Blue Heron not Blue
• My attention is grabbed by a strange “awk, awk” sound up and to my left A huge silhouette of a blue heron cruises across a newly dark sky The bird is on the way to its nest in the…
Good Enough
A V-formation of geese fly below a crescent moon in a pale blue sky as a pink sun descends The following morning Clara pets Snickers and laughs in a German accent as she wears a grey hoodie that says MAINE…
Poem: On a Warm Day
On a Warm Day A car comes to a halt at three way stop signs on, a one way street The girls cross A butterfly flutters by a butterfly bush in a back yard, ignoring it A hummingbird buzzes in…
A Poem: The Moon
The Moon The moon is hangin’ low, a crescent in the sky Looking like a golden reflection in an ally cat’s eye • Lunar thoughts eclipse the day Your dreams revealed along the way • Don’t make too much of…
A Poem for Martin Luther King Day
Photography by Peter Tobia B/W I bought the black kid in the laundromat a popsicle for .50 cents. I don’t know his feelings, but he said thank you, and we just talked at intervals about basketball, baseball, etc. He…