Like a boy in the wild
raised by wolves
my poetry is sired
Tracking the scent
of each hunted word
traps set for me most dire
Uncaught or caged
by academia
my trail still honor bound
To wander freely
beyond the wind
— alone to stand my ground

(Ronald McDonald House: February, 2024)

I have no regard
for other poets
how could it be other

As they conscript
the words away
of which I’ve not discovered

A battle royal
zero sum
as phrases block and parry

The winner left
his voice reclaimed
— the loser most disparaged

(The New Room: February, 2024)

Signs that might be seen as omens
send me on my way
the daylight waning for today
and luck still ****** on display
flying close to danger’s coven

The wind blows fortune’s empty cast
as trackless dreams setout
dispelling hope and bringing doubt
without a name to even tout
caught within tomorrows fast

I see each warning clearly now
they speak much like a friend
whose words as tokens try to bend
rushing blindly toward the end
captured voices left to bow

Those signs that led me all point down
the road is changing fast
no clear distinction first from last
my future ****** to be my past
— the devils fiddle calling loud

(Saint David’s Pennsylvania: February, 2024)

Were I to explain
what then would I say …
That the moon loves its axis
that each dog has its day
That the question unanswered
most answered indeed
That each start an enigma
and truth often bleeds
That the mind unexplored
without mention at all
That from season to season
time stumbles and falls
Against my better nature
I’ll place this one bet
The answer you hoped for
— you’re never to get

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)

When night
is your mistress
all wishing is gone
Espoused to
the sun
till divorce came along
Hope
your one offspring
lying dead in repose
Philandering
blindness
— your tryst ill disposed

(Dreamsleep: February, 2024)

They come to me in phrases
in couplets newly born

Screaming from the highest places
fitted but unworn

They come to me in dreamsleep
the moon recycled new

Time released in words immortal
—scratched into the pew

(The New Room: February, 2024)

Toby was special
beyond any words
His love monumental
for country and Lord

He fought to the end
accepting his fate
A legacy giant
— our hearts to embrace

(Tony Keith’s Death: February 5, 2024)