|
these new faces
in my dreams,
who are they?
and why do the know me
so intimately?
Prune Juice
– Issue 6, Summer 2011
|
|
|
bread, wine, cheese,
the gentle patter of rain
on a new tin roof...
come, read love sonnets to me
and I'll read you Neruda
Magnapoets
– Issue 7, January 2011
|
laughing and screaming
around the sprinkler,
children pretending
that water
is acid rain
Prune Juice
– Issue 5, Winter 2011
|
|
my father smiled
and with a wave of his hand
said, "See you later."
the snow flakes that fell that day
now ice around his grave
Notes from the
Gean
– Issue 4, March 2010
|
why does the rain
evoke images of you?
your hair, your scent,
an entire day spent pondering
what
ifs and could have beens
Magnapoets
– Issue 5, January 2010
|
scenic
overlook–
standing on the rock
where two lovers
threw themselves
into a blaze of autumn
Atlas
Poetica
– Number 4, Autumn, 2009
|
a recurring dream:
the two of us parked
in your car, laughing,
in the cemetery
where you are buried
Magnapoets
– Issue 4, July, 2009
|
that poor birch tree
scarred with our initials
decades ago . . .
how I wish someone
would chop it down
Prune Juice
– Issue 2, Summer, 2009
|
smoking
has stolen
her angelic voice
and with it
a piece of my heart
Prune Juice
– Issue 2, Summer, 2009
|
a
text message
from my wife
in the next room–
the distance between us
widening
Prune Juice
– Issue 2, Summer, 2009
|
on second thought
I'll leave the radio off
preferring instead
a child's
improvised allegro
Magnapoets
– Issue 3, January, 2009
|
fewer deer
in the herd we watched
by the roadside–
a gun barrel cools
in the morning mist
Magnapoets
– Issue 3, January, 2009
|
the moon
receding 3.8 centimeters
a year
how else to explain
this longing for you
Magnapoets
– Premiere Issue, January, 2008
|
|
When my
time is over
there will be no death poem
just this testament of life:
“I've gone to thank the One
who blessed me with children.”
Spring
2006
TSA's
Journal Ribbons
|
second
honeymoon–
our first outdoor shower
together
what a delight to find that water
can rekindle a fire
red
lights, vol. 2, no. 1, January 2006
|
|
that
maple tree,
two years ago red leaves
last year yellow
now orange
this is how we've grown
Winter
2005
TSA's
Journal Ribbons
|
sipping
sake,
let us prolong
this moment–
under a lovers' moon
we write poetry
Winter
2005
TSA's
Journal
Ribbons
|
|
flipping
the pages
of a photo album
my inner child
grows old
before my eyes
Autumn
2005 TSA
Members'
Anthology
|
in
through the meshed
wire
of the screen door
an inch worm wiggles–
I, too, have no desire
to become worldly today
Autumn
2005
TSA's
Journal
Ribbons
|
she kneels for Yeats
I reach for Akiko
in the poetry aisle
reading the smile
of a lovely stranger
Summer
2005
TSA's
Journal: Ribbons
|
dust
clouds
from a hoe
a sweat droplet
dangles
from my father's nose
Summer
2005
TSA's
Journal
Ribbons
|
|
Faith
(a tanka sequence)
from
the onset
of the first G-chord
an Alzheimer's patient
lifts her head
to sing
with his one
good leg
the old man
taps his foot to
“Sweet Bye And Bye”
the lady
in a wheelchair
struggles to follow–
“One more song
before you go?”
red
lights, vol. 1, no. 2, June 2005
|
casual
conversation–
a young barber speaks
of spring break plans
while clumps of gray hair
gather in my lap
Spring 2005
Simply Haiku
, vol 3
no 1
|
dozing
to the drone
of the train's engines
I slip
into tomorrow
Spring
2005 Simply Haiku
,vol 3
no 1
|
a mild winter
day–
my daughter dances
to Vivaldi
today, I don't mind
having crow's feet
Spring
2005 Simply Haiku
,vol 3
no 1
|
you pass my door
in a rush
to smoke a cigarette
without a pause
for my one breath poem
Spring
2005 Simply Haiku
,vol 3
no 1
|
little green snake
on the woodland path
I watch you depart
across the fallen leaves
through my camera lens
Spring
2005 Simply Haiku
,vol 3
no 1
|
a
wrinkled photo
of a young girl
bathing in the lake–
I fall in love again
with my wife
Spring
2005
TSA's
Journal
Ribbons
|
|
