Month: February 2015

God the Man watches his children. “She is alone.” “He is alone.” “That one, too, is alone.” “There is no comfort for m...

There is something like death in it. … and the gift of new birth wrapped in ribbons of a waking sun. There is sadness. There is redness. When the heart gr...

(He wrote so carelessly) You are the parched breath of my lonely desert And the sand that cuts like broken crystal And the blinding empyrean. The denizens of th...

Each day is hard, my Love. Discomfited by fond memories. Remember when you laid your head on my lap As we watched The African Queen? I smoothed the strands of y...

It’s hard not to be happy When the sun shines And a troupe of sparrows Dance a tiny soot brown feather hop And flit between crumbs and hunger At my swolle...

I hear your name, The softness of it. In dark hours When I and my restless wandering Are breached by still waters. I see your face And follow it. Sense your lim...

That’s her. That is her. Time doesn’t spoil the spirit. It cracks the cocoon That is her body open. That’s her. That is her. The wind won̵...