Death

my soul recoils from
the cold skeletal touch of
the angel of death

twilight-
fireflies lead me
across the river

Color

immaturity-
unsure of how to deal with
my first streaks of gray

afternoon light-
test swatches
on the wall

Moonlight

a glowering moon-
the creak of a rocking chair
in an empty house

moonlit shadows-
your hand
pale in mine

Ashes

high flying embers
remnants of a prior life
slowly turn to ash

distant thunder-
lightning strikes
a joshua tree

Alone

in a basement bar
the windows dirty with time
drinking my coffee

sheets of rain-
a community
of strangers

Waiting

staring at the floor
scuffed and worn beneath my seat
from those in my shoes

dawn breaks-
outside the
waiting room

Haze

families asunder-
buzzards circling high above
the southwest desert

riding the smoke-
wild horses
in the distance

Danger

lying in my bed
beautiful and poisonous
twisted in the sheets

african sun-
death lurks
in the tall grass

Return

the lobsterman’s wife
watching the lighthouse at the
dying of the day

silent passage-
darkening water
laps the shore

Memories

underneath my bed
photos of my childhood
slowly fading lies

an old cigar box-
sacred relics
of my youth