Believe me when I say
I am an above average equivocator;
A hyperbolic exaggerator;
But I love to listen to the experts,
Their promises of love, wealth, justice.
Now, I'm also a reflective skeptic,
Remembering in tranquility and such.
And the wellies fit well.

Dawn is a yellow **** stretching across the sea horizon
a skullcap of grey blue cloud overhead.
We wait for severe weather forecast to fulfil its prediction
lulled as we are in the silence and stillness of a nun at prayer,
nothing moves outside, even the birds have hunkered down.
There will be dead seals on the shore again, killed in the waves created by the ferocious unforgiving winds, food for the Blackback Gulls,
a winter bounty left in the wake of the coming storm.

a color was a thought of painting
and poetry and literature
sadly
my son took a crayon
held it in the air  it was flesh
said right on the paper wrapper
and asked
dad, this says flesh
and I see all kinds  of color
in people,
why?
Why what?
I asked trying to narrow his
question down,
He said , it is  pink,
it don't look like my skin
or yours
and I wondered
if  I drew a man
do I have to use this to
color him with?
I answered , I don't know if
correctly,
no son,
use all the crayons
grab as many as you can
make a rainbow
man,
that would be better