Winter

white breath and mittens-
on the pond shaved ice gathers
the sounds of laughter

heavy blankets-
the sound
of falling snow

Legacy

in my father’s chair
still unprepared to carry
this heavy burden

fallen acorns-
my little feet
in your shoes

Paper

written in anger
signed in blood and gently sealed
with the kiss of death

impending storm-
newspapers aloft
in the morning wind

Cold

hushed elevator-
the open doors close once more
leaving us alone

frosted glass-
winter air
seeps in

Accident

a pair of sneakers
found by the side of the road
after the cleanup

waiting crows-
a possum’s
sacrifice

Common Ground

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

the village green-
I hunt for the
elusive middle

Loss

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

barren trees-
young branches
devoid of leaves

Homeless

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

dark rain-
wet newspaper
her only refuge

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