• NO FAREWELLS

    You’ve been gone something liketwenty-two years now, althoughit doesn’t seem all that long to me.It is like I saw you five years agoand even that seems longer than real.They tell me I was fifty whenyou departed but I can’t clearly recallwhat it was like to be fifty.I know I never said goodbye to youand I…


  • HOME

    I don’t know what I expected to findstanding on the corner of a residential streetin Charleston, West Virginia, the domeof the capitol peering up in the distance.That is not surprising, the orange brick homewas much larger than I had assumed, but youlived there only a few years before leavingQuarrier Street to start a life of…


  • LAMBERT FIELD

    The gravestones, in random shapes line the hill the morning chillcreeps between them and onto the runway until washed awayby the spring sun slowly pushing upwardas the jet noise washes the hill unheard He passed away quietly in his bed ending his dreadof the cancer slowly engulfing him his vision dimmedby the morphine that pulsed…


  • ORIGIN

    I am told that I should writeabout my origins, that is the stuffthat long poems are made of, orrather the soil from which they bloom. I have written about my birth motherand visited her grave in West Virginiaseen those of my grandparents, meta cousin, I’ve written all of that. So its time to write aboutmy…


  • ON THE MANTLE

    Perhaps it is just that Ido not have a mantle on whichto place the cherished artifactsof my life, my parentsand grandparents photos,a family Tanach, the tallismy first adoptive father woreto his Bar Mitzvah. I have nothing, which this dayseems sadly appropriate,for their history really isnot mine, never was, Isimply borrowed it for a timebut all…


  • PARENTAL MOMENTS

    My adoptive parents diedsix years apart, I receivedtwo announcement textsfrom the son they had together. We negotiated her obituary,and I am waiting for her funeral,but after seven years, I havegiven up hope of that happening. I did visit my birth mother’sgrave, placed a small  stone on hers, watered the groundwith tears of sadness and joy at…


  • TREPIDATION

    I approach it slowly, overcomeby fear and desire, warned to stepcarefully over the uneven earththat on this hillside haven set behindthe rusting wrought iron fence , itsmaster lock dangling askew, peersout through the trees to the Kanawha riverflowing unknowingly through the valley. The stone is set in line with the others,neatly incised, a name, Englishand…


  • LIKE DUST

    We are obligated to carry memories, and as we get older, the burden grows ever heavier, we bend under its weight, knowing we dare not lose even one for once cast off, the weight is carried off like the smallest feather on a storming wind. Soon enough it is we who Will become the burden…


  • PASSING

    He has been gone over a year and they need to erect the headstone before the first hard freeze, but it has rained for several days and the ground is too soft. Although I can still hear his cackling laugh he lingers less and his smell is slowly fading from the old bomber jacket. First…