you may never be who you arein my words — no words left — not in
Our grandmothers
I see her
Passerby dreams do not leave tracesTiptoeing goals leave little dentsShadows…
poem on the coronavirus
They lie sunk in their stripped bedSlivers of light streak the dusty floorStaring ahead, there…
A Love Poem
Those skinny, funny looking armsThey droop down alongside thatSlender, crooked waist of…
this bright American Dream:this unbroken business of busy-ness — this ado of mastering spaceto drop a shining coin or two…
What might his life have been Had it been other than it is?Great and good in the Old Style?Perhaps…