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A QUICKLY PASSING SEASON
That summer was onehe would always remember.She was special, she told him soand he had no reasonto doubt her. Thatand he was one to fallso easily into whathe thought was love.It lasted well into Augustwhen she said it was over.He did not understand whybut he was not one to argueso he consigned herto a memory…
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OUT OF HIDING
The hidden joy of youth, and itsinevitable disappointment, isin finding that special person.Each time it is the birth of true love,eventually, save in rare circumstances,it is the death of an illusionand the aching pain accompanying the loss. The certainty of youthful emotionis a bondage that is most often inescapable,and there is no desire to leave…
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AND COUNTING
How many timeshad they almost metover the years before that evening? What if the Fateshad allowed meetings,what would have changed?Likely everything, nothing,for when they might have metneither was available,he a student imagining himselfalready in love, or both marriednever thinking those relationshipswould possibly end in divorce. And how many times had theybeen in the same placeseparated…
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A MOMENT
It is 1952, April, and Iam handed to the woman.I am wrapped in a thin blanket,the tall man is standing beside her.I do not recall this, but thisis how it must have happened,she finally a mother, hea father despite infertility.I do not recall her, the womanwho perhaps never held meonce I exited her body, whohid…
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SHE
You were a young beautyto my middle aged eyesthat knew, despite the mirror’slies, that I too retainedsome large measure of youth. Even that is now behind us,and I can no longer denythe mirror’s sad truth,my face unable to belie whatI knew time had wrought. And yet your beauty hasnot diminished, rather grownas does a fine…
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MACHISMO
He was fond of sayingthat men need to toughen up,show more fortitude, taketime for serious male bonding. He would prattle on abouthow so many men werenot true men anymore,warped by modern society. I tried my best to avoid him,to quickly end our encounters andwhen I could not, for he wouldinevitably complain of loneliness. Still, I…
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BUT
On more than one occasionsomeone has come up to meafter an open mic readingto tell me that they love my work. I am honored and tell them sobut curious as well, since Ionly read two poems, whichhardly counts as my work. I offer to sell them my bookat a substantial discount,but they inevitably tell me“Thanks,…
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AT FIRST
The first timeI heard itI knewthat voicecame from a placeI had never visited,would neverbe able to go. It penetrated mereverberatedwithin mea harmonicthat shookme to my core. She reachedand graspedwhat I thoughtI had kept hidden,and as I dancedwith mynew bride,I knew Ettahad led meto loveAt Last.
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WRONG AGAIN
As a teenager, like somany others of our narrowminded, obsessed gender,I imagined myself a great lothario,girls on the edge of womanhoodlining up for my attention. The absurdity of that dreamwas lost on me and my peers,testosterone drowning it in a seaof hormones, and we were obliviousto the real obstacle alwaysright in front of us, that…
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A PRAYER
Last night, as I sat poisedon the edge of sleep, I askedGod for continued blessings,for I have been blessed morethan I likely deserve. I heard Her reply that Iwould always have Her love,on earth and heaven, and Iknew my request, selfishfor certain, had been answered. But now I wonder if it wastruly She or your…
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an old writer and his words 