On the shelves they sit
this way and that

an untidy mass

some discernable
others abstract

conversations
with myself

or those
who are no longer here

cup a stein
a mug

a ballerina
folded hands

things to see things
to feed

our desire
to know more see more

metal army men
a die-cast VW Van

a dime a dozen a blessing
in disguise

a spacesuit
doll clothes

"Beware of looking for goals;
look for a way of life."

a cupie doll a shrunken
head

as someone once said

we are the things we gather
or in some cases

scatter

whit howland © 2021

Rattling
shaking
rumbling

convulsions
and unbalanced load

unbalanced



whit howland © 2021

Touching
a smudge of sky a splash
of sun

two metal halves
that'll connect as one
go

up and down
up and down

boats
barges
reflections and shadows

all pass through
for me but not
for you

whit howland © 2021

The sound of children suffering from some far off shore in my ear

The tears of first light shed a certain sadness as I listen for a sparse hope

But all that transmits is an echo of fear...

It's in their eyes
an expression

or mood

as if someone pulled on the switch
in the room or the mind

pastel baby blue

feelings over facts
abstract over concrete

whit howland © 2021

Copper
or maybe tin

on a ring like keys
to a kingdom

where life was once lived
in measured tones

and precise
rhythms

a sacrifice

whit howland © 2021