Last Christmas
I’d rushed there through the afternoon
In someone else’s borrowed car
Where you, distressed I’d come too soon,
Were giving samples in a jar.
The last I ever spoke with you
Was in that long, cold, darkened ward.
Snow washed outside like waves, and you
Were slipping slowly overboard. Read more …
“Reflections” & Other Poems
Reflections
The ruffles of a cloud are like a rose
Recalling past romance; the flaming pyre
Of setting sun recalls a warm wood fire.
Old bark-stripped wood reflects a dryad’s pose.
Rain mimics the faint rattle of parades;
Bright, brassy sounds recall a marigold.
Read more …