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Feb 2021 · 598
In the cold stoney gardens
Woody Feb 2021
It is the time of year
when the hardy
start coughing
while the carpenters
with coffin nails
between their teeth
are measuring cuts
for sawing wooden sides
tops and bottoms
for boxes of varying size
while all the while wiping tears
of pine dust from their  eyes
and the bereaved are weaving
memory wreaths to lay in
the cold stoney gardens.
Nov 2020 · 218
Woody Nov 2020
I sleep on my back
most nights
so that I don't have to
feel the watch tick-
tick ticking like
a grasshopper driving
nails in a coffin.
Jul 2020 · 452
Beneath my eaves
Woody Jul 2020
The Swallows come
when day is done
while shadows wait
for night to wake
and dying light
sighs one more time
as sun sinks slow
to douse his glow
for moon’s ascent
around the bend
so Swallows know
it’s time to go
rest restless wings
beneath my eaves
- my tired eaves.
Jul 2020 · 1.2k
Two weeks from now
Woody Jul 2020
No one will remember
if it was the ocean
or the river -
just fun in the sun
the sand and the water
under a blue sky -
or the fever
they caught there
on the 4th of July.
Jun 2020 · 317
Until you’re not
Woody Jun 2020
I don’t let reality
get in my way
besides, everyone knows
that I am a dreamer
so let me pretend a little
while longer that you’re here
and try not to wake me
until you’re not.
Jun 2020 · 176
We the Peeps
Woody Jun 2020
all hands and knees ~
(the) heat on sun-browned necks
~ once trekked
dry-eyed staring
across a Sahara ~ (As did we all)
without vision (we the peeps)
~ once blind
but now we see. (And, once more, We...)
Jun 2020 · 362
Blink and you’ll miss it
Woody Jun 2020
The first lightnin’ bug
of the season
here and then just
gone in an instant, real quick
like a meteorite in peripheral vision
fast as a .30-ought-six
or a day, a year, a decade
blink and you’ll miss it.
May 2020 · 354
Where did I go?
Woody May 2020
I wonder
if I might
have been
that kid on
the milk
May 2020 · 318
The way love operates
Woody May 2020
There is a girl
half a world away
I would have been hers
she might have been mine
who can say
maybe in a different time
a different place
but that’s not the way
love operates
sometimes the knife cuts deep
and can bleed you dry
bringing you to your knees.

But a man can dream
as I so often do
about the designs you had
on your blouse
like roads that could lead me
anywhere, and your hair
too dark for a soul to brush
away that one strand that
made me think of an island
not on any map, and the down
on your belly like dust on
a blue guitar I strummed by
the porthole of your navel
and fingernails like pirates coming
aboard flogging the back of a Captain
who dared sail into your port.
Aye, aye.
May 2020 · 259
Sand Creek
Woody May 2020
When the moon is bone
and floats on the creek
like a dead baby, I stop
breathing and listen close
for hoofbeats of the Cavalry.
May 2020 · 183
Pardon me, but...
Woody May 2020
Momma died in the nursing home
Aunt Sondra died home alone
Brother Jimmy died crossing the road
after visiting Uncle Timmy at the VA
who died the very next day
while the peeps in the Press says
that the Prez said we have the best
testing but it’s overrated, like masks
I mean, pardon me, but I have to ask
does he even know what he means
or is he really as stupid as he seems?
Breaking News: Dotard now says positive cases are  a “Badge of Honor”. *******.
Apr 2020 · 172
Much love
Woody Apr 2020
Hey peeps,
Y’all be alright?
It’s a strange
not quite brave
new world
we’re living in.
Stay safe,
hunker down,
mask up,
wear gloves.
Be a good citizen;
much love.
👍 if you’re good.
Apr 2020 · 232
Oh yeah
Woody Apr 2020
I dream
of your tongue.
It’s a snake.
Oh yeah.
Don’t ever
let me forget
how you lie.
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