Time is a fading thing

The dawn, the universe, a 'someday, soon.'

A poem about doubt, death, horror, and other cheerful things. Is there any goodness to be found in this world? Is there even such a thing as goodness? Shall 'be' be finale of seem? A response of sorts to Wallace Stevens' "The Emperor of Icecream."

A poem about doubt, Neverland, Hell, and a distant redeemer.

There is nothing in all the world quite as tiny as the universal. Nothing so enormous as the local, the specific, the singular. This tree, that blade of grass, that woman...

At the end of a long, rainy day, a woman has a chance encounter...

Of the dawn, a baby's first cry, good, evil, and renewal.

Of truth, the night, and your own reflection.

The new green leaves on the tree the cycle continues.

A short poem about a feeling that's hard to express. Not nakedness in the conventional sense, but something other.

It is life.

The good thief, the bad master...

No longer a lump of coal, not yet a diamond. That's the state of every Christian, I suppose. This poem is about that strange state of inbetween. Sort of.

Based on the painting 'Winter Landscape,'by Friedrich. An old man faces the winter of his life.

Of Grandfathers, Grandmothers, and all that's best and irreplacable about the people we love.

Of trees and childhood, winter and spring.

A poem about birds who learn to fly, bears who don't, and the sad, often uncrossable gap between one kind of relationship and another.

I led her by the hand along the path of dust...

A visit of the sepulcher leads to an unexpected epiphany.

Near the autumn equinox, I took the cemetery road...

The Cove - the kelp forest - the roaring waves - the fury of the tide - a handful of pebbles.

Time, a starry night, crickets, and an empty classroom with everyone's things still in it.

There is a serpent in the garden. I'm not sure how well this works, born as it is from sheer fury, but I found that I could not stop my pen before it was all on the page.

The eagle's roost is occupied again, though not by eagle-kind, nor other bird...

Two men walking down a road - on perspective

A musing on the gulf between childhood and adulthood

Late afternoon, and the yearning for Heaven.

After watching the rain by moonlight...

After a long night of watching a heavily censored Friday the 13th Marathon...

In memory of a ten year old autistic boy...

The dignity of the earth has withered, but the roots of the mountains go deep...

A vingette dealing with a child learning how to count. An experiment in perspective. Feedback would be greatly appreciated.

When darkness comes, he does not come alone.

After their old tree-house falls over in a thunder storm, two children go into the woods to find a replacement...

Breath

The forest greenery - at dawn

A companion piece to another poem of mine. Memory should be read first, followed by this one.

Ah, the grand show. Political rallies, impassioned speeches, and stirring arguments...

A sonnet. C&C very much requested. "The hearth has cooled, and dim the light of home..."

A body should never be empty. The warmth of a home should not fade.

The shadow-flowers filled the night...

Strange as it may seem, this is a true story. The event described herein really did happen to me - I was in first grade at the time, and it's still as vivid in my memory as the night it actually happened.

I'm not really sure about this one. It's straight from the heart, but I'm not sure how well it works as poetry. C&C would be greatly appreciated.

A pondering on life and death, of darkness and the sacred breath...

Sometimes we forget. Sometimes we take it for granted...

This one's odd - a bit different from what I normally write. I'm not sure how well it works, and C&C would be greatly appreciated.

And are we any different?

Funny how life is sometimes

Where now is the fire that burned? Where the music that once filled the hills?

Age, memory, and home.

A ballad - the Moonlit Evening

Injustice.