a letter to mr. bear

matilda spent the morning
alone in her room
selecting colors
from her #8 box of crayons
she's depicting winter scenes
like the season's first snow
she's writing a letter to mr. bear
he'll wake up in the springtime
with matilda's letter & drawings
lying beside him in his cave
he'll learn that he missed father christmas
ice skating snowball fights & sledding
all the fun things of winter
matilda's drawings will show him
all that he missed
while sleeping

apricot sunset

it was an apricot sunset
not the color of fire
nor crimson not yellow
but with all the shades & blush
of an apricot
saffy sits alone
pondering the imponderables
such questions
that any teenage girl
might wonder & pine over
is love incurable
does it last a lifetime
will it ever go away
there's no answer
to her ponderings
so she sits alone
in the glow
of an apricot sunset

dragon dreams


one night as matilda slept
a sulfury mist arose within her dream
in which a great dragon appeared
majestic & fearsome
gently it lowered it's head
matilda losing all sense of fear
first touches it
then caresses it
sensing an invitation
she climbs up on its back
as it rises to take flight
rising up―  delby's lights fade away
as they climb higher & higher
rising up till surrounded by stars
they swoop and sail
above an ever shrinking world
hours pass as they cavort
among the clouds & stars
till the dream ends & matilda awakens
to find opaline dragon scales
lying scattered on her bed

pigeons like sentinels
line the rooftop
a line of grey silhouettes
against the backdrop
of the morning fog
chimney smoke
drifts like passing clouds
weaving its way through the fog
as matilda sleeps warmly inside
abby sits out with coat over nightgown
she's taking in the quiet
hands warmed while cradling
a hot cup of coffee
she sits out alone
catching a few peaceful moments
as the sun's slow rising
burns the fog away

mystery

out beyond krick's tavern
maybe just mile or so
is a place called jupiter hollow
where stands a tree
a hundred feet tall
with a thousand branches
upon which
a hundred silver spoons
hang on yellow ribbons
they sparkle as they
twist & turn in the breeze
yet no one knows the reason
for the hanging of the spoons
but― with every season
the ribbons change
from yellow to green
then red & finally
blue

savannah lamb
(dahlonega to delby )

her husband left her
but not before
imposing himself
one last time
one last humiliation
one last beating
she hears whisperings
sees averted eyes
so she hops a train
dahlonega to delby
its a new place
a new start
a fresh face with no past
living in the safety of strangers

this is one in a series of over 200 inter-related poems

voices in the air

riding on the aether
the essence of
tony frank dean & bing
permeates everywhere
like god's omnipresence
they are the unseen
troubadors that eminate
from a magic box
that sits next to the lamp
on the parlor table
matilda first turns one ****
then the other
till their voices rise
above the static
voices that flow
within the glow
of vacuum tubes
voices that ride
upon the aether
from a magic box
to matilda's ear

welcomed in the comfort of old familiar arms

after fifteen years together
it was a fight that separated them
an argument- a silly one at that
drunken spiteful words & a slap
that reddened his face
a slap that set him off to roam
anna mourned his leaving
she regretted the words she said
she still feels the sting on her fingertips
still sees the look he made as he turned away
it invades her every dream
a decade has passed
thomas has returned to delby
older wiser & most of all sober
expecting no forgiveness
he avoids the places he knows she might be
but in a small town avoidance is near impossible
the inevitable is bound to happen
give it time- they'll meet

what is the color of a cloudy day

is it the color of a day
with undertones of pewter & lead
where monochromatic clouds threaten
to rain down tears at any moment
is it the color of a day blanched of any color
where shades of gray dominate
with maybe just a blush of sepia
is it the color of a corpse like visage that is delby
blending into a gray/green ocean
that itself fades into a distant colorless forever
is it the sum of all these and maybe more
that make up- the color of a cloudy day


delby is the town depicted in this poem a small harbor town