More of the same — why
does the wind rage
and rattle the embers?
Because it is the wind.
You cannot defeat the air
with your tiny lungs.
Kings built walls and the wind
knocked them down,
cleaved the noses
from their stone faces.
You have the power
to close…
The elderflowers have a name.
A storm will call their colors home.
Whose brain was it, found at the end,
shockwave of time that scattered stars?
A black bear combs the beach for meat,
a grizzly waits to catch a fish,
an eagle picks the guts away,
These are the signs that point…
I am honored to have a poem selected for web publication by Maya’s Micros for The Closed Eye Open.
The poem is titled The Longest Echo and explores feelings of powerlessness even when a person has so much. We all struggle in different ways and that struggle can leave you…
I am happy to announce I have three poems appearing in Issue #37 of the Shot Glass Journal by Muse-Pie Press.
I’m running out of things to say.
I’ve told you all that I know
of cycles and circles
and dream language.
The left brain says, make a plan.
The right brain says,
don’t make a plan for anything.
We are drips that make our own path
down a pane of…
