All Things Confused

A dog with newspaper spots, barking wherever he goes.

At night,

I have seen streetlights

glow on the bark

of trees.

I have squinted

to find shade

in the dark,

and having returned

to well-known spaces,

found myself a stranger

in the park.

Hard to Believe-

Last Saturday

was Christmas Eve.

The Missing Piece

My puzzle did not fracture

Until I framed the broken


The laminate glint upon

The box

Had appeared demure apart.

But as I slowly assembled

The print

I detached from my endeavor.

When should the pieces

Become complete?

Alone or altogether?

Sipping Water

The humidity almost

Made (up) me drown,

My last breath choked

And all moist

From the sound

Of con- densation.

Branching Out

Little finches nest above

My door

And screech for pests-

I might abhor.


They invite my grace

With piteous cries,

Which find my place

Inside awry.

For the Birds

Moss, clinging,

Facing north

Never heard

The winter singing.


Patio chalk

Does not balk,

But dust does not

Denote a lot.


Not every day is like this one

I took to be my own.

The walk was in the perfect place

For nearby trees to grow.

Restfully sloping hills contained

A smooth and breathless pond.

And strolling past, I saw myself-

My heart began to run.

Necessity was not the sight

From which I turned away.

Would flowers in the green arise

Without the worker bee?

But reflected in the stillness,

Clouds rolled across the sky.

Adrift amongst the lily pads,

They almost caught my eye.

Sometimes you wake up

And miss your friends,

Disparate dreams

Outside of your head.


The tiny footsteps

Of fallen leaves

Follow me.

And glances

Keep me company.


On occasion,

A sparrow hops,

But does not fly

Away from rocks.