buckle to the times
The young man finds a long chapter ended, awaits another
Knowing the wind blasts aught of charity
Ennui cavorts random and alienates the helper
Many trapped in posts akin to sinking, heavy blocks
Till one dash of black wave must destroy the stagnant water pool.


bye, little bird
Wish well her of shy mind on this strange and hasty trip
To impress a panel to make an odyssey out of learning
Suture memory with anticipated creme de menthes
And liars fall flat, who faltered never 'fessed
Upon big, iron wing you fly--bye, little bird.


hard**
Like a Dutch fan with the top of russet, critic to the hug
She comes from so far to meet the southern sky
A little late, but always arriving in white: trio on the green
Sturdy bedrock steadfast in the spiraling crash; salt on lips
In the clasp of beach blues, the sun shines hard.


Grownup offspring do move on, slips of life
Some attend not rushed meteors; start living.