New Life

That tree, leafing green dead, gray, ungrown just last fall, chirps forth in new song. – – – Photo by Alexey Demidov: https://www.pexels.com

Lantern

Lately, something of your voice has carried across the wide band of stars no one can count, and today the darkness falters in the echoes of it—an ember rising from the fire to quell the night that festers in the dungeons.

Primary Hopes

Green the dress Raging bright the hair Idling in the wind by yellow roses Eyes stare out. Across the ancient blue. Far gone….away.

4•24•24

Some dates must be captured— too aesthetically pleasant to allow to float on by on the streams of time that wander toward history and so this is what to do— immortalize them! (Spenser did it; so can you.) Set an ambush in the river, spread the net out wide and catch those numbers before they […]

The Would-Be Forest

In thirty years our lawn could be a mighty forest, grown from our own oak and maple trees that tower above the grass and weeds and freely lend their shadows every hour. This year the babies sprang from dirt– a hundred leafy heads that bend and wobble, hopeful in the wind. I cannot tell how […]

Greed

Just a little violet in the grass, set to feast on sunshine, drink up rain, meant to bless the wanderers who pass, meant to live and thrive and then to wane. But how the sky could wander wide and free! And how the dirt pressed hard against the root! She tipped and drained the sky; […]

It is the Lord

Another night stretched long trying, trying, trying– until finally morning drifted in– cool and bleak– as empty as their nets in the water. … Another command to cast again to fatigue, hunger, failure– words that echoed fantasy– trite and senseless– to experienced fishermen. … But, once more, they let their nets down down down […]

They Rolled a Stone…

Cold and stark, silent, dark bonded atoms: strong as steel— unwilling eager guardian— watchful limestone wheel. – There’s no tread can wake the dead or break the quiet stone. Night creeps in on shameful day; the maker sleeps alone. – Roman dust, silent must guard my stone with wooden spears. Bored and stiff, the coldest […]

The Hour Has Come…

Stranded ‘round an ancient Olive tree there wends collected history from lives: the truth that now remains in memory. And here within this garden there survives a tree that lived to feel it’s maker’s touch, that heard the earnest prayers, the shouts the strives the babbing brash that woke the sacred hush, berating godly pleas […]

Nails

Smash blows. Snaps of breaking waves. Sharp. Short. Blood sport: BLEED . . . See this! Willing hands? Stretched out– NO demands? Gives death. Claims life for these men ? – – – Photo by engin akyurt on Unsplash