Tag Archives: Poetry free verse

My dead (recast, for Jeffrey)

My poem, My Dead, needs another stanza. So, baby brother, you are now a new, very sharp stone in my pocket too. Thanks for walking with me. I call them my dead,not that they don’t stillbelong to themselvesor to the … Continue reading

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Closure

closure– this thing I need where sad packs deep but neatly in its place under a shiny brown shell the way an acorn hides the potential of a tree inside of it–a pain 200 years old, living, still growing and … Continue reading

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Pretty things

Across the street From the cemetery Is the house We grew up in, its yard Confettied with yellow leaves We’d rake in piles to dive into Scattering them again Today, my loss Is tied with a bright bow Like a … Continue reading

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I don’t see color

I don’t see color they say but I do, we are no stewpot where everything simmers to a bland monotone as if a melting pot is a goal not an impossibility– for every us there is a them I don’t … Continue reading

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today, when the crocuses open

today, when the crocuses open so yellow, so birthdayish and so late that I have both together this once and in May is remarkable I will thread them with forget me nots and smile for the sake of all your … Continue reading

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Excuses

I write after the children and cats are asleep and the news slows like a clock needing winding in an age when most time is measured digitally, and whispered to satellites so it is always right. I need to wait for … Continue reading

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Cultural Graffiti

This is an old, old poem I am revising, as I believe it still has relevance today.  This does have ***FOUL LANGUAGE***  in it (I use a word in here I have never said–ever, and I don’t read this one … Continue reading

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