Wednesday, October 31, 2012

Hand and Jaw

There’s harmony
that until now
I never saw

between a child’s
tiny hand
and a dog’s
strong jaw.

The hand reaches
down with a
bit of food

the jaw accepts
without being rude.

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

The Genesis of Names

A name is sound
                                waves breaking against
 conversations                      more
                quickly than
letters littered on birth certificates

and wind
                                abrading wine glasses
                glistening moon
the beach              each grain of sand’s
identity written by flutes.


Charge the cell phone and
the dormant car.  Fluorescent
kitchen lights preface
morning, catch first coffee’s
inky charm.  Charge out
and charge the breakfast
sandwich with sausage in
the bustling square of Tim’s.

Monday, October 29, 2012

A Farewell To Poets

their voices clamor, insistent
though dead, hoarding silenced

histories —  poems rampant
resident behind closed

eyes — they angrily shuffle from
literature’s harsh pitch —

writers, blessed enough to endow
each word with a long-lived life.

Saturday, October 27, 2012


In a world of many,
what focus is there on one;
I listen to a child’s problems.
The phone rings.