Trains
down along the tracks-
in the distance the fog glows
with a passing train
–
a waiting owl-
the train echos
through the hollow
down along the tracks-
in the distance the fog glows
with a passing train
–
a waiting owl-
the train echos
through the hollow
black leather collar
tight around my neck lying
prostrate at your feet
–
cold stone-
village pews
stand empty
a warm autumn glow-
dawn clouds steeped in honey spill
across the ocean
–
daybreak-
sunlight dances
on the wave tops
the telephone rings-
it seems you and I still have
unfinished business
–
woolen socks and
warm apple cider-
my phone in a drawer
warm evening colors-
wet oil paint dry bushed across
this canvas of sky
–
evening skies-
clouds blend into
the autumn canopy
just another day
thoughts and prayers for the dead while
no one does a thing
–
a quiet morning-
evil flourishes
in the silence
open before me
the pages of my journal
blank and foreboding
–
onshore winds-
sand and shells
in the roiling surf
documenting war-
pages inked with the spilled blood
of the innocent
–
shimmering heat –
blood pools
in the desert sand
the full predawn moon
resting above the changing
autumn canopy
–
evening chill-
the moon dressed
in alabaster
staring at the clock
trying to understand the
cruelty of time
–
aching for sleep-
minutes collect
in piles on the floor