Bombs

Do not confuse
the dance
with the dancer
The music
with the guitarist
The words
with the poet
The job
with the employee
The missile
with the president
The sun
with the light





Copyright 2013 August

Surprises

Every time I write
I meet a new friend
from an exotic land
I've never visited
I wish I could meet her
for regular lunch dates
I think she would order
dumplings one day
and sushi the next
And her hair would be wild
and a different color
every time
Deep and vibrant hues
Today it's auburn
Her skirts flow
Sometimes she would
even take the check

Copyright 2013 July

St. John's Wort

Winging it

he takes the hill

in his usual bounds

but with his hands

behind his back

his face as open

as the dusky sky

hesitates he does

then says

"flowers"

the wild kind

so humble yet

so powerful

defying years of

thickening scars

I knew their names

once

and I know his

(Written from several sources of inspiration, catalyzed by this lovely site.)