maybe I'll write a poem today
I've got little else to do
my junk news, wordles, and puzzles are done
did the laundry too

I've got a book to write
and friends to visit
why is that such a reach?
I go through the motions in my comfort zone
watching silent webcams of the beach

I need milk and bread
cereal and eggs
but Walmart seems so far away
little makes me laugh or cry
and each color turns to gray

The curtains will close,
only if we’ll allow it.

Not now…
Not at each darkened hour -
where the cycle of ticking hands
seem to wipe clean, the ash and dust
off the faces of every clock.

                     •••

When the curtains finally do close…
And a little too late…

May the drapery be large enough
to grant eternal peace
and enshroud all the bodies that lay

but not our eyes…


Our hearts…


Our resolve…

I will remember
the song that my heart
played percussions to.

I will sing the words,
with no one else,
to a song made for two.

Heaven rained on me,
I breathed in the petrichor,
Bathed in the downpour.

She wears her *** like silk
Draped around her in translucent veil
Shimmering as she walks
In ivory , elegant form
She can almost hear the heads turn
And feel the men stare
As she glides across the room