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Falling leaves
on the rhythm of the wind
you fly.
To a place unknown.
Rainy days,
it’s getting colder.
People haste.
Umbrellas are up.
Year is getting older.
Let’s go home.

Shell ✨🐚
Yes, december is almost here.
In no time another year passes.
So much happened all over the world.
We are the falling leaves.
A world of people
Act, talk, walk, eat, pray and love
All are living things
September 22,2023
Hey everyone.  It has been quite a journey here.  I have come to think of you as family.  I love you all.  I am happy to announce that my book, Seedy Town Blues, Collected Poems is available on Amazon, kindle version now, paperback and hardcover in a couple of days.  Thank you all.   link to my book.
the night moves in time
with your hips
and the rhyme on your lips
is my reason to tip

let me taste it
I won't waste it
exhaling your soul on these pages

can you fake it
while I make it
put a show on
forget where the stage is

you're now alive
thanks to me
shedding skin
so I can feel

the way the night moves
under a dark moon
the cost to put out
the light in a back room

you know the way
I own the key
I know you taste it

lust worth the fee
just come with me
and don't forget to breathe

you're not alive
thanks to who?
shedding skin among the darkness

and I'll survive
thanks to you
worshipping a godless goddess
needs a better title
Trying to write a lyric
my words reduce to verse
The euphony escaping me
adrift as I converse

Though joy is sorely tempered
these letters soldier on
In hope of just one melody
—in hope of just one song

(Bryn Mawr College: September, 2023)
I’m on my fourth lifeline
how about you
The first three pre-owned
the current one new
This one seems fleeting
which gives me concern
My freezer is empty
no steaks left to burn
The first one was blissful
the second had pain
The third one reflective
but this fourth one again….
I try to hold on
and describe it at will
Exceeding my grasp
it alludes me and still…
I wouldn’t go back
to either one, two, or three
The things I see now
ripened fruit on my tree
If this is the end
and the lights start to dim
I’ll sing the words strongly
Madonna’s last hymn…
“More thankful than troubled
more joyous than sad
“More today than tomorrow
—the past in the past”

(The First Book Of Prayers: February, 2018)
how small
how white the child
skin rinsed with tears

salt in the wind
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