Beach
driftwood and clam shells
dried seaweed and rushes line
the high water mark
–
curling waves-
preening ducks
bathe in the surf
driftwood and clam shells
dried seaweed and rushes line
the high water mark
–
curling waves-
preening ducks
bathe in the surf
midwinter moonlight-
hushed stillness split by the cries
of mother and child
–
nesting jays-
the silence of
broken eggshells
ashen metal sky-
slowly rolling cattle cars
descend into hell
–
chain link fence-
the walking dead
in black and white
a whole life reduced
to two dust covered and scuffed
satchels by her feet
–
cold desert night-
the tent offers
poor respite
rid of you at last
cut from where you’d gotten lodged
just under my skin
–
last year’s maple leaves-
splinters from a
prior life
a towering oak-
our initials in a heart
carved into the trunk
–
sunset park-
the bench where
we first met
dark basement staircase-
the heady scent of baked bread
wafts down from above
–
golden light-
brown buttered toast
and black coffee
clutching thoughts and prayers
while we let those who suffer
slip through our fingers
–
predawn chill-
sleeping children
suddenly fatherless
the first day we met
your perfect little fingers
wrapped around my thumb
–
laundromat-
your clothes tumble
next to mine
evening in the woods-
footfalls in the the underbrush
betray my silence
–
a park bench-
convincing a crow
to let me sit