Tuesday, March 28, 2017


Spring.  Spring like asparagus is unabashed.  Cherry blossoms, too, are -- without apology -- short lived. Even light (though pressed to admit) is short lived.  And yes, light is predictable as night will speak its name.  Poems like salads, are seasonal, predictable. And if you haven't noticed -- unabashed.

1 comment:

  1. IOS

    She walked the halls as if in a castle
    that ;are and often empty house which held us
    with such grandeur
    Cannot see the faded wallpaper
    the scratched up floors
    the dust and dirt and flour on the floor
    When playing behind the tables
    one catches the falling shells of peas
    and the occasional blueberries
    meant for pies--
    how I wish to be back there
    in my dark and tangled innocence
    held up by mysteries and midnight calls