Category: vers libre

There it wasNot all that importantWhere it had always beenFreshly laundered, foldedAnd then before I wear again,GoneLike any favoriteAnythingI never knew I...

mantis on our garden patio always praying thank you dear green one for your humble example

These mops don’t smell too good no matter how many ways you soak Them, frayed and rattled like the ends of torn tendons, spliced especially So the silken ligatures slowly dissolve into flesh, absorbed like a child Takes...

Work continues the same everywhere Beginning again in the early evenings Into the nights and mornings as quietly Changed into white clothes we wear Surface layers of dust that air brings Are wiped again until the cloth is...

The music, don't worry, carries away in a shopping basket, Frozen peas for a pillow, cool and soft, warm and sweet. Words and sounds decay through the air we breathe a dozen Breaths per minute, inhale, exhale, difficult as the...

Notions are hardly worth their whimsy, rising as oblong pockets from Feathered beds below the glassy sheet of calm.  Nature turned her head Away while coughing, politely sparing us the lurches and trauma here As distant to...

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,...

In the tall green; way beyond what needed mowing, The sun could have blown the lightning of your hair Again, a presence like a sheet snapping in the wind Flung across my face as though a crooked blowing Motion was all it took to...