Author: s.r.g.

Daily, when my wife waters our drying flora Morning and evening during summer months, Her mood blooms atop weeklong seed grass, Our sun-baked garden speaks to her, more a Maiden chorus greeting their sister at once, Seeds fallen...

Just parked in the driveway as usual On inertia now, noticing springs uncoiling Like night crawlers in our rain of waited Out lawn-watering curfews, casual Conversations on everything from petroleum Products to fabricated...

Such a beast as these jagged shards stacked amid flighty Scientific questions, sponge bathed lifeless limbs, stretcher, Armed military parade, wide load National Guard solemn Caravan toward hanger of reassembly, gathered in...

On the hillside our mothers stood in a chorus line, toes Pointed nakedly through sandals. Confused border collies Taking orders from instinct alone, fulfillment frowned Upon in one’s merely doing what feels what one knows (Quite...

Java tides erode smiles, warming tongues that gracefully move From subject to object, rich bitter concentrated dark language, The kind that burns as it comes and goes, in and out your throat. That acid, some sort of tannin,...