robert-zanfadWhisper

American
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A Prayer of IdentityFrom grass and stone I am shepherd of herds, / as of grass and stones have come these beasts; / and of my beasts, I soon shall be,
5
Dec 17, 2015
The Strange Case of Beinginside weeks now, first frost warmed off, a *** watered / but still sere; her leafless twigs stand here ... pointing accusingly / (she'd promised us limes someday)
12
Dec 5, 2015
Living BlindAutumn's hedges weep blood again, the eternal mystery of red leaves confounding reason, protecting and surrounding us either in gentle beauty or concealed sorrows we never knew. Theories of our own existences are proved certainties only by the imprecision of tears as we've lived. Rage the year. The dead season, still, nears; we too, should paint it anew in bold color and embrace it without fear.
1
Nov 9, 2015
Living in MorningShall we through this tall grass run, children / heed the urgency of crickets this early morning, / outrun meandering trodden trails we'd make?
12
Sep 7, 2015
Letter to a Young Single Parent (From an Older One)Sadly, Kiddo, that's what's called life. / There really aren't fresh starts for day-to-day strife / just different street names to remember
30
Jul 18, 2015
The Rarity of DreamsI let ivy try the trunk, green all winter / yet buds haven't come with warm weather / it'll rot and drop this summer
12
Apr 10, 2015
Reflections Under Dormant TreesFebruary's / another month marked; / its ever requisite yellow roses
7
Feb 1, 2015
A Postmortem for Wynnefield Avenuebecause / on some dateless dawn / away from the mown swath at the edge of the road,
8
Jun 14, 2014
Sepia Pictures of a Boy with Blue Eyestoday we celebrated pain / crowds gathered in the close hole they'd made, / and, too, in fields where once were harvested
57
May 16, 2014
Blue Housesi'm realizing / life's now free from / pointed pens and sharp knives,
21
May 14, 2014
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