A key from the sea rolled into shore, It may open a door, a chest of yore. Gone green with age, so I ‘d say no more.
Category Archives: Poetry
Poetry: First Light on the Old Man
First light strikes the old man with cobwebs in his eyes. He’s had enough wildfires, covid and Afghanistan follies, So he cocks his gun and squeezes the trigger from the cheap seats Where he sees but never hears the leaping prima ballerina Land en pointe. There’s applause but is it in front or behind theContinue reading “Poetry: First Light on the Old Man”
Poetry: The Self-Centered Man
The Self-Centered Man The self-centered man Asks the car wash attendant Which is worse, Oak pollen coating the hood, Or ashes from a wildfire?
Poetry: A Rusty Chair
A rusty chair waits for me Near an ocean, With no cell phone service, Only deep thinking Like that runaway Mack truck Plowing through a spent cornfield Just east of my childhood. I didn’t scream back then, I was young with time To right the ship. But now that I’m old, I am content toContinue reading “Poetry: A Rusty Chair”
Poetry: The Slow Crawl of Night
The Slow Crawl of Night In darkness the scent of french fries Follows me along the frontage road. Plastic bags cling to a cyclone fence. Cars speed by, drivers indifferent To my hunched over figure. I enter the cheap cologne mist Outside a 24 Hour Fitness Where people watch themselves In large glass windows LitContinue reading “Poetry: The Slow Crawl of Night”
Poetry: Brave Warrior
Oh, brave warrior of delicate means,Dodging unseen obstaclesIn a momentAlways to beThe shadow of a butterflyComing to me.
Poetry: Waiting for a Response
She is waiting for me to respond From the comfort of my easy chair. I could speak in complete sentences, Wave my hand, or sing a top-40 song For she’s only a dog With expectations And direct knowledge Of where the biscuits are kept. I am on my way to the kitchen.
Poetry: Rusty Thoughts
An abandoned rusty chair Waits for me near an ocean, No cell phone service, Only deep thinking Like a runaway Mack truck Plowing through a spent cornfield Just east of my childhood.
Poetry: Watching TV
Watching TV Before turning on the TV Think how wisdom Is knowing you don’t have forever, Maybe no more Than tomorrow, If that, To do the best you can For the moment you’ve been given, Like witnessing the full breach of a whale When others only see the explosion of white water Or nothing atContinue reading “Poetry: Watching TV”
