Who’s to Blame    The age old question is asked Again and again, Who’s to blame, What is the fault?   So much blame to be handed about, Instead of accepting that we all Have a hand in the end results, Instead of handing out…

Hour Five an inkling of forced into retirement the choice not my making. known at 41 left to raise my son fend for myself. had known, my future, the moments of fear, frustration, and anger. had a clue of the anxiety and depression, of the…

Kidnapping a Baby She did not mean to steal that baby you see. She only wanted to do a little trickery. She was herself only a child no more than three. She went and hid herself  in a tree. Her mother called her and she…

Summer sun on the side of the slope Frames the scene Pleasant, soft, bucolic The soft susurration of the grasses Lulling a sense of security,albeit false, in the police who waited As the divers dragged the depths of the dam Depositing the decomposing dead on…

The sun peeks through trees Leaves frolic, their fabric sings Shadows sway and twirl

The girl’s untouched skin never answered her questions, so for the past dozen weeks, she guards her own body. She walks from her suburban home to the nearby field, stepping off the sidewalks’ stable physics and away from the streetlights’ particles and waves that want…

The puppy likes to play in water, including eating it from the hose, Watering the garden is interesting, He’ll interrupt where the water goes. The adult dog enjoys soaking up the sun, where there’s water she’ll run away. They are a crazy pair, different as…

the welder’s tool was all we found: this file could read a lot about the dead. her lips looked like the taste of black oxide coating could that be the reason why it was found, in the mouth of Regina where she bled?   the…

A gray morning tangled in an unfathomable mist with a speculative breeze filled with hummingbirds slicing the fog leaving wild streaks of color. An ever so faint hint of perfume, vanilla. My heart has been stolen but never my soul. Hints of perfume a clue…

Mystery poem   Ghosted   Messages made of ellipsis bluffs: talk to you later, I’ll let you know soon… Tomorrows that never came. Conversations like dandelion fluff. All the time, there was something vacant in your eyes, a tightness in every smile. Excuses like a…