Tag Archives: love

morning poem, May 9, 2017

  . Long ago In this very place Two weeks of June came in April All the half-measures of early spring The raw mornings and frigid rains Were replaced by a fortnight of summer Straight up Clear, warm days and … Continue reading

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Mid day Poem, June 18, 2016

‘ These are the days we were waiting for When we sat long nights, hemmed in By darkness, by mud and snow Staring at screens Thinking, will it ever come again? ‘ Now the sun is warm and the breeze … Continue reading

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mid-day poem, June 9, 2016

This morning I walked out to see Where in this bright day All that starlight that fell last night was hiding. Standing, waiting, looking here and there Looking longer, about to concede And there it was, unmistakably Tiny points, bluer … Continue reading

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Before the Solstice

The long days before the solstice bring freedom After a day’s work light lingers on for supper on the porch And after that a walk on the road unhurried and young At final twilight the last breath of spring Is … Continue reading

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afternoon poem, june 8, 2016

. Flat on the flat desktop White sheets, bearing print Turned this way and that Yellow pads with pen scribbles Cursive cursing Doodling A thick manual Manila folders, stuffed and empty Some are artifacts Of one war or another Records … Continue reading

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Early Morning Poem, June 5, 2016

. I walked out early this morning Before six It’s Sunday, so there was no traffic And the fine mist that fell Or lingered in the air Made it seem that even the rain itself Was not yet awake. . … Continue reading

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Morning Poem, May 27, 2017

. In May the lots of the big stores Are decked with bags Of mulch, soil, sand and gravel Staked four feet high on rows of pallets Surrounded by a makeshift fence Of cinderblocks and wooden poles. And there are … Continue reading

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Walkers.

Originally posted on Joseph E Bird:
Our house is a little backwards from most houses, where living rooms face the street and kitchens face the backyard. Ours is just the opposite. When I sit at the kitchen table eating, or…

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Teaser 2

Martin Fletcher stood in the club’s empty dining room and stared through the tall windows at the river. It was running muddy green this morning, but today would be clear with no rain and so he knew that the stream … Continue reading

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morning poem, may 2, 2016

HEADING WEST I remember thinking of the west As a young man I’d see clouds on the close horizon And imagine The great, clear skies of New Mexico How I got free I still don’t know But we pointed the … Continue reading

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