Wednesday, November 22, 2023


because I am contained,
for the moment,
at the intersection
of cinder block walls
and LED lights,
I push my vision
into the middle distance
where lack of focus
allows me to see
puddles and sunshine
competing for dominance
in a November world.
I replace the electric hums
of this inside world
with fooling winds,
which come in slowly
but still sting with cold.
my dry, warm, feet
feel the shifting
layers of sodden leaves
and I slip
and find myself
with pencil in hand,
and coffee that has cooled
and time
has passed.

Friday, November 17, 2023

Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

waiting on the rain,
dreaming that it shall begin
as a mist
sent to muddy my thoughts
before strengthening slightly
to a drizzle,
just enough to wet my hair
and alter the hue
of my shirt from ocean
to peacock,
cold enough
to have my breath
before my eyes
and shiver my bones,
the aches of years
before I trundle
back to warmth and light,

Thursday, November 16, 2023

(If you could be any Animal) The First thing I can remember writing was about squirrels

We shared the trees.
always to greater hights,
and I would watch
and wish
I could make those
(sometimes graceless)
from tree to tree,
traversing the canopy,
this boundry between
earth and space.
Always a child
with one foot
not firmly

Tuesday, November 14, 2023


Catching a toe
on uneven pavement,
I stumble.
And this small event
recalibrates my gyroscope,
changing my focus
from what is ahead
to what is up.
So I greet the maple leaves
which rush down to offer
their comfort,
then stand again,
sore but grateful
to be reminded
that gravity
is here for all of us.