Here I go driving past the crooked creek We’d throw stones in its pockets and try to pick them up again, only a wish away from desperation It’s today that I’m reminded of you Don’t know where I’m going and even though it’s not been…

There is a coffee shop I frequent everything but the coffee a cliché old building, exposed brick plants, hand-lettered signs roasting their own blends alchemy of ‘house-made’ syrups – lattes you long for, unsure why depending on barista, music mix runs the gamut from eclectic…

Symphonic sorrow sounds of grief emerges a solo possibilities of Hope Coaxing subtle light a duo arises aww, moments of relief   this poem was inspired by Max Richter’s “On the Nature of Daylight” symphonic instrumental

A Thousand Suns (Poem 7)     The brilliance of a thousand suns reflects from all that I have done. The hummingbirds upon a limb, the maples planted one by one. Metal shovels dug the pond before we built our home Blueberry patch in lower…

Come Monday We know what you’ll be sipping And what you’ll be munching And where Come Monday I’ll be getting a brand new tattoo It’ll be a real beauty And it’s your damn fault

for Joe Curry & Brandon Cullen ”Lifeguards in every sense.” Carol Gussoff, CBS New York One lifeguard bench at Robert Moses State Beach connects two twenty-four year olds. A bond closer than any of us imagine. They share a love of gym workouts, surfing, and…

Night View   Stars like jewels decorate the sky, pinpoints of light billions of miles away. I sit by the fire with a lone lamp, dimmed, so my eyes can watch the astronomical wonder above me. A small mesquite fire to warm my bones in…

He came back from the war carrying discarded shells in his pocket ‘3 for those I killed,’ he says He also brings an iPhone full of pictures and videos him and his buddies having a good time firing shots into the mountainside kicking up dust,…

Shove. Get in there! Snick—the key turns. Your big brother Mickey’s footsteps clack on the wood floor, thud on the rug. It’s dark in here. Old rubber galoshes stink of feet, the coats of wet wool. They hang around, their hems on your neck and…

The past draped about us like a cloak A chocolatey center of a bad idea wrapped in coating increasing the risk of suicide drawn relationships stuck on who you are outlining who you are now casting shadows over what they think they know about where…