Still Born

A multitude of sins, of sorrows, Still Born. What Purpose? My Life. No Purpose. Of Course. I am clean, and full of love. I meant no harm. Glaciers calving, yes. With incremental, exponential effect. A billion eyes following a whale, and her child. Sustain this. Untenable.

The Birds and the Bees

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo A cool grey morning after the school bus pulls away and  I am sitting on the cold damp rocking chair on the porch, Sipping lukewarm tea. Watching the crows yell information at each other; They keep a beady eye on me as they eat our breakfast crusts. The blanket on the chair was precious, … Continue reading The Birds and the Bees

Another Poem from the Past (while I work on my philosophy essay)

P.M. Behind your eyes is a forest: Fresh air, cool water running, Leaf filtered sunlight, Moss, ferns, mushrooms, Decaying logs. Eyelash curling coy around your hazel tree eyes. It is dark, cold, damp and I have no compass. Under the old leaves are shoots, and beetles. Footsteps around and around, who else is in this … Continue reading Another Poem from the Past (while I work on my philosophy essay)