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.

Fall and Fifty

Autumn swings in slowly, a flirt, with his flashy colours and moody looks. We sense winter and slowly release summer. The hydrangea blushes rosily, the fat blossoms white on her underbelly and pink and magenta where they have been kissed by the sun. Early morning is grey and petulant, but gradually the sun will transform the day. … Continue reading Fall and Fifty

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)