Poems

The doctor adjusts his glasses, tells me the news. There isn’t much else. I leave the muted-colored office and beat my hands on the steering wheel.

I found in the pocket of the jeans I wore last night a yellow note: from the triple g&t…

Go down the gravel road past the farm where a family lived in a boxcar, past the field with longhorn cattle When you hear donkeys bray, you are almost there.

I have a piece of turquoise beach glass.The second rarest color, after orange. It sits collecting dust between…

i want to stick my fingers between all of your leaves i want to run my hands over your knots : step my bare feet onto your roots : sink against…

Relation ship of fools, the two of us set adrift squared to the sea, no rudder, no captain, no sails to see us through,unclear who is looking ahead the other behind us, just us. There were others but now just us asking…

Writing to keep calm Haiku in the seminar Villanelle at dusk Desperation firmly anchored in the stormy sea of…

“My father liked to work with his hands So much so that it created calluses on his palms and he survived solely on manual labor…”

Peach halves wobble in pineapple jello on the tray across her hospital bed, a kitchen accustomed to the elderly; still, Green Pines…