Common Ground

the darkness complete-
standing on the precipice
shouting at the void

the village green-
I hunt for the
elusive middle

Distortion

a toad on his throne
surrounded by those mirrors
that show him a prince

rain streaked windows-
the world outside
distorted

Loss

hug your children tight
for tonight there are parents
who won’t get that chance

barren trees-
young branches
devoid of leaves

Reclamation

an empty city-
young maples rises up through
the broken sidewalk

an old plow-
reclaimed
by the forest

Homeless

asleep on a bench
the hard rap of a nightstick
startles him awake

dark rain-
wet newspaper
her only refuge

Departure

the sliding doors shut
as the train pulls away I’m
still on the platform

changing winds-
the last robin
takes wing

Glutton

surrounded by wealth
still dissatisfied with the
overabundance

winter rain-
runnels
overflowing

Forge

the heat of the forge-
showers of embers rise up
into a gunmetal sky

cold anvil-
hammers
ringing

Chips

over chips and drinks
the sounds of friendship filter
through my old screen door

dark windows-
piles of chips
shufflled cards

Morning

our fingers entwined-
the dusky blush of daybreak
mirrored in your face

the rising sun-
my finger traces
along your lips