Thread

The string we shared was a thin one, little steel cable, shimmering in the glow of bliss, and even as our days grow dark, I can feel the string pulling me out, pulling me in, though you’re 2000 miles away, I can’t help myself, I’m…

The “Me” Time

From dusk to dawn, The womanly chores goes on.   Cleaning, washing, ironing, cooking, baby sitting and the list goes on.   Delegating official tasks, managing reports, signing important documents, holding meetings, planning futuristic goals and the corporate responsibilities goes on.   The evening falls,…

MORE… I WANT MORE

Hour 2 MORE… I WANT MORE More, I want more. The years have gone too fast for photographs to capture, on a page. Lest those dearest would see our fall, Some, we don’t share at all. Grieving, I want more… the precious moments and joyful…

Goodbye

You said goodbye and walked Into the fading afternoon sun   I stood looking at you hoping That you will turn back   But you continued on until You disappeared from my sight   I moved away with not A tear in my eye  …

Untitled

Cup your hands around your mouth, Whisper it into the nearest ear like the children’s game Telephone.   We all want to know the secret.   A symphony of longing Staccato, legato, forte, pianissimo, sharp and flat movement, theme and variation.   In the end,…

The gathering

Somewhere deep down in the essence of my being a secret fire dwells within Flames ablaze with memories of greatness                                             the stories of…

Living in Exile

Home was an uncomplicated space— a quiet verticality with room to stretch, not a place for harshly phrased missives nailed to the door, parting the lovely grain. This new country is no promised land. The natives are ill-mannered— all teeth and lips, they cluster in…

Poem 2

I would have thought it was pretty apparent by now And our illuminated arch-backed Railways Don’t tell us why And our gasping enclosures New builds Don’t tell us why And our careful vigilantes Men Don’t tell us why And our promised blowing clarity Winds Don’t…

Reunion

The first thing she asks after inquiring about me, while gripping me in enveloping hug: how my wife is, the kids are we talk amiably, deeply about our lives, families. Stuff. I see in her eyes what I have since junior high; this she knows…

A Game for Nine Girls

Half the class, the better half, take the unpaved path that leads to the top of the lake. Now shoeless, they flop out satchel stuff for inspection. Pencils, a putty pony, a tarp, a box of matches, an adult comic and six apples. Withheld gifts…