Good Morning

Good Morning

Good Morning



Soft pillows on a breeze

Roll across the blue drape,

curtain of beyond


We are clung hard by gravity

To the still surface of our world

Imagining. Always a little short


The obvious is always staring

Large and blunt

At my inadequacy


Implacable odds

The bookmaker smug in money

And I in self-pity. In fear


For sadness is lost time

I cannot inhabit that

Not all day. Not every day


So I would rather

Blush beneath my host

And live well in the weather.

After Mother’s Day



After Mother's Day

After Mother’s Day

In the quiet familiar room

Fat, wet jewels sit on the glass above

Through which I see a grey monotony


This augurs ill for progress

Shining reluctant light

On half-formed plans


Still. The silence is a pool of beauty

Limpid. Greens dominate the view

Horizon yawn. Suck me in


There is so much to do

To overcome the apathy

To out-pace inertia


Dispel the dank encouragement

Of dismal

And light the fuse