Watching the other kids board the bus
While I stayed behind
Was it the same for you?
When you cast us apart
Into the expanding finite
One violent sweep
Hoping we would find our way back

Did we lose sight of ourselves
Back then?
Nothing but color, without a canvas
Nothing but light, with no darkness to light
Limitlessness, unable to be still, without limits
Infinite love, alone

flowers fragrance called
soon bees enfolded petals
relishing nectar

My life is a poem
where day-words
fall on my head like
the first snow.
Unexpected, wanted,
fragile, cherished
they are here to melt away.

I put them on paper,
I throw a bright light on the page,
so every letter will be remembered.
But what is the point?

I paint every moment
in wonderful colours,
outlining every inch
with the tiniest brushes,
most intricate ink.
But who will be looking at it?

Western Classic

Just as the day begins to break
on the day after new year's eve
I disregard every old ache
to find a place where I can breathe.

Not many miles down a wooded road
my boots crunch through a heavy frost
on the way to where I can unload
to where old worries can be tossed.

And there it is, the old oak stump
where I've rested many times
not on a hill just a small hump
where trees are draped by muscadines.

Language of discourse
Denigratory and coarse
Lowering mores

Night that burns through the dark
Like cheap wine conquers dusk
A cadence ripple that scarce touches
The surface of evening and rings out
To the sheer edge of an older plane

Twin towers now gather light
About the skirts of a cathedral: Lincolnshire
And it’s here we sit, you and I
In the buzz din of wheat fields my dear

Where the drum heart of beaten time
Outlasts the bell-clutch of that evening cloak
Where all words fail to grasp this thin
Fabric of chimes passed

Last Post

Well sad
this happens to be
your last post
here
no money I believe
yet what is money
but the sweat of the brow
it comes and just goes
simply wipe it out

I compose for the love of humanity
so many still come to my gate
as I have shed my vanity
we all must entertain the masses I feel
if we have the torch and seal of lover’s beauty

bounteous rain fall
quenched perennial parched soil
heaves sigh of relief

On a deep cold winter's day
with January just begun
I step out of abode's front door
to greet the chilly rising sun
just as I did yesterday.
What might this day have in store?

The brushy hill that faces me
quivers in the northern breeze
and like the deep woods to my back
stands stark and bereft of all leaves,
bare bones revealed for all to see
from poplar's light gray to walnut black.

Dreams are a pathway to a faraway land called dreamland They take me away from the here and now In my dreams I can be anybody anything We all hope our dreams will come true Dreams make reality bearable Dreams are a means of escaping reality With dreams our lives are filled with gaiety