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A MORNING PRAYER
My words are carried on the winter morning wind echoing off the obsidian mound and shattering in silver crystals reflecting the frigid sun. The barren moon recedes as my son, the wolf, ravens devouring knowledge of the world, listening to the song of the dolphin. She is a rose, soft petals fluttering thorns poised to…
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RECALL
It is always odd watching older men gather to talk about their lives, about how much they no longer remember of last year and a decade ago, about the infinite details they do recall of their time spent in the army, air force, navy, the smell of slop on a shingle, the stain on the…
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A CHILDHOOD
I have fond memories of a childhood I never lived. Those are the best childhoods from for they reflect life as you meant it to be lived. In this life my father is in his late nineties, still smiles when he sees me, not didn’t clutch his chest sixty-one years ago, didn’t fall to the…
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HERE LIES
Ambrose Bierce walked into Mexico one day, and was never seen again. That was surprising enough, but more so, he left no epitaph, the least you would expect from a writer. In retrospect, perhaps he was the smarter one, for I know othersl who have spent countless hours trying to devise the perfect epitaph, knowing…
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PIERCING
It is a simple two pronged pin, steel, a circle around the letter U.S. It has sat in my jewelry box since the day I clutched the DD-214, hung up the two or three uniform items I didn’t turn over to Goodwill, and filed the paperwork with the VA. Every month, when the VA Disability…
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OBSCURITY
a winter night clouds digest the moon cars drive turning lights out disappearing neon signs stare beckoning vacancy open space super condensed matter she moans I love you to starched sheets shrouds wrap her loins a cat scampers into a bush dragging the sun melting the highway electrons run crashing into nothing quantum leaps First…
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UNTO EACH GENERATION
Years later on, having walked calmly away from my former faith, I am left still pondering where you find the words to describe, to teach the unspeakable, and how you use them to reach children who have no right to know the unspeakable, but who must, lest they later speak it. It was a generation…
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MORNING AT THE SHORE
Along the shore, this morning, the clouds piled up, refusing entry to the promised sun, which hung back forlorn. The waves charged onto the sand like so many two year olds in full tantrum, banging against all in sight and retreating, only to charge again, pushing away any and all in their path. The wind…
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WRITTEN ON WATER
Tomorrow this poem will most assuredly no lnger be here, though when during the night it will slip away, never again to be seen, I don’t know or perhaps it will return in a form I would not recognize, re-crafted by the hand of an unseen editor. It may take on a meaning unfamiliar, or…
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HUP TWO
In his dreams he is still marching across endless paved paths on an Air Force Base that might be Texas or might just be hell. In his recollection, in July there is virtually no difference between the two. He stirs each time his Drill Instructor bellows, which is every few minutes, likely seconds in this…
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an old writer and his words 