Grief

House By The Sea

Our door,
once the guardian of my solace,
no longer keeps my secrets in.
It is a gouged dichotomy
of being closed, yet broken…

A Last Good Summer

In the sunshine, I may write
a happy poem
beneath a feijoa tree,
while the spiderwebs cling
to its twigs, a splay
so brittle…

Detritus

Paddle in the calm,
while the sun hails and halos
from afar, gifting
its near-eternal charms.

The Absence Of Memory

Father, the white voids of my PTSD
obscure my childhood -
my formative memories,
although I do recall
how you once…

The Brine

Wake with the weight of water;
an ocean’s breadth of brine —

Strange Antennae

Tuagane

The last time I saw my friend,
we buried another.
He was his uso; our third, our brother.

Day Broken

Sharpened

Loss sharpens, 
yet diminishes us

Behind The Curtain

Her thoughts have been quiet -
sealed too long in vacuum,
unable to assume the plasticity
of their ever delicate shapes.