song held in morning
echos across summers mist
splash a loon dives in

The rose in vase can't see snow outside
for the rose in the vase...
however radiant,
beautiful....
Is still dead.

I tend
to be
a short form
kind of guy

The promise of a gurney
is that things will be fine
unless
the sheet covers your head

Love
is how
heart and eyes
feel

Suppose you got a quasar for a pet,
And brought it home,
To play with your pet laser,
But your mice,
They stole them both,
(They got out of their cage,
I don't know how,
But I know they're wicked smart,
You'll see)
Then they ran into a tower,
With the laser and the quasar,
Where you couldn't get them out
Because the laser gave them power,
To keep you far away,
Then they made you bring them cumin,
All the cumin you could find,
Soon the tower was so full,
That there wasn't even one
Indian restaurant in the town,
That could cook a single dish,
Soon the tower got so full
That the mice began to sneeze,
So they knew they'd have to fly
With the laser and the quasar,
To some other place,
Maybe outer space,
Or Greenland,
Or Albania,
Or someplace that I can't spell,
But right now my one good hand can't type,
So I must go,
Sigh,
Bye.

Round, the kumquats grow
Sharp-leaved,  they green the sky
The gate opens wide

Their lives left us,
Not in their own time,
But in a storm
Of others' choosing,
A storm that left a stain,
But not a trace of them.
When we mourn them,
We might wonder
Who their children
Might have been.
Do not pray for them,
Pray for remembrance
Of the deed,
Forgiveness is not
Ours to give,
Let the dead speak,
If they wish.