Scrawled in the yearbook are forever promises of people I’ve now forgotten.  Which exact Mary informed me I was “sweet” then drew a flower? I can’t recall the “fun times in Spanish Club” over forty years later. Scrawled in the yearbook are forever promises of…

A word of explanation. I accidentally published at 1126 originally. This is actually my 12 Noon publish. Diamante style poems cane be antonyms-which is what is presented here. Line 1 Noun Line two adjectives pertaining to line 1 Line 3 3 gerunds pertaining line 1…

At 7:00, it’s already hot, two hours past solstice dawn. The paths are full, as if it’s noon. Dog walkers, mountain bikers, runners all seek to avoid the dire prediction. Heat Apocalypse. Record-breaking 100 degree temperatures expected for days.   Few air conditioners in the…

my 35 mm camera still uses film still uses manual focus still takes the best photo still makes me think before i shoot those  photos of travel of family of friends of memories   it’s a reliable old workhorse similar to me a little scratched a…

Sing me butterfly your wings take me far away dream of better days   sing me butterfly your colors vivid in praise of a better life   sing me butterfly in your metamophosis you enlighten me   on butterfly wings i shall fly again towards…

Perfect temperature. Perfect age? Growing up, always the youngest. Now, I want to see them grow up. Four grandchildren! Cups runneth over all over the place, all over the globe, it seems. Sure, I have lots yet to see and do, but, closest to the…

i hear your thoughts and fold them into me, into you, around us today i want nothing but to breath this love deeply and rest in your arms to let our impefections fall away, to resist the urge to ask for more than you give…

Sphinx of black quartz, judge my vow For glib jocks quiz nymphs to vex a dwarf. Waltz, bad nymph! For quick jigs vex, And we should strive to grump both the quick fox and lazy dog.

Mitch Brown Hr 3   Why is it I write? Clearing my head Why is it I write? Cleansing my spirit Why is it I write Opening my soul It is because I write That I am

Your arms enveloped me And your hands covered my head When I was little. Your words comforted me And a held hand protected me When I was little. You taught me to love You taught me to grow When I was little. I used my…