Sunshine and
jelly beans
. . . some of the most
common of the ordinary things

Playing cards in bicycle
spokes . . . they could hear us coming , no joke !

No one could outrun me in my red Keds hightop tennis shoes

Staying after school for misbehaving in class
wasn't cool

Playing square ball as the autumn leaves fell . . .

Golden sunshine , Queen of the woods , a magical spell

I was living in my best imagination

I was nowhere . . .

then everywhere , giving it my all to tell

The aspens quiver, brittle spines trembling,
a broken orchestra of gold and ache,
her feet carve the earth raw,
mud smears like confession,
the world swallows her,
skin slick with its wet approval.

Here, the sky does not accuse.
It hangs, mute and thick,
secrets buried beneath roots,
writhing like forgotten daughters.
Her smallness presses against the weight,
a quiet scream lodged in her ribs.

The ground hums its absolution,
a Eucharist of dust and decay.
She, unmothered, unfathered,
folds herself into the soil’s indifference,
her anger spilling like blood in the light.

It does not follow
that I am weak
or timid,
shy,
or small

Your logic’s amiss
I’m not swallowing this

It does not follow
that I am cracked
or broken,
rough,
or torn

It’s flawed generation
from any foundation

It does not follow
that I am less
or nether,
base,
or low

I don’t care where we were
-what you try to infer
I prefer
You’d concur
These are non sequitur


©2025

I watch the harbor through the falling snow
the sky and sea form one vast, gray tableau
the sun is nothing but a weak, background glow
the scene draws me, as if hypnotically.

Five mile’s lighthouse warnings go unvoiced
its strobes not lashing out, so what’s its point
it stands majestically but disappoints
replaced electronically

A tiny lobster boat makes its landward way
towards the inlet from the wider channel bay
a powdery blizzard is underway
which melts into the mirror sea.

Ospreys still hunt round the lobsterman's pride
snowflakes stain them as they soar and glide
other seabirds huddle side by side
shivering and crowing lividly.

Through the narrows the lonely boat steams
past icy Luddington Rock and East Breakwater's breech
its berths and moorings, within minutes reach
and sadly, it’s time for me to leave.
.
.
Songs for this:
Far Far Away (Charles Tone Mix) [feat. Brenda Boykin] by Tape Five
Nobody by Mitski

Ever the Optimists,
We Men.
Wee Men, we.
Wowed by
Simplicity.
Confused by
Complexity.
Slain by
Women's smiles.
Ever the Optimists,
We Men, we.

Wheeeeee!

I was on a train from
Paris to Amsterdam
and with an empty page
a sad smile and a pen
she was looking out
the window across
the apple green fields and
into the valleys of cobbled
villages and ****** churches
and as the dead air of Paris
was leaving my mind
I began to read the reflection
of questions in her eyes
I wanted to tell her what
she already knew
that the answers are in
the rhythm of the rails
and to only underline
the words that matter ...
Clay.M

Did you ever
a dandelion pick,
blow each seed
and make a wish.

Was that wish,
a wish for wealth
or was that wish
a wish for health?

Or was that wish
a wish to see,
a field of gold
in front of thee.