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Tighter
than the flat coils of
Safety
belts on our chest,
A
feeling of unease grabs
Our
throats.
Eyes
fixed on the road,
We..
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I twist and
weave fibers Made of my
own sinews,I zigzag
stitches that goAround, and
then, unseen, On the wrong
side continue. Light does
not pen..
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It started out as a celebration of spring. It turned into...but, you be the judge.
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Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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If God is love, does
He love me as I do
Ephemeral flowers, or
Seasonal blooms?
I am but a short-lived
Splash of color, an
Oddity, a..
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Though we cough andBurn, with squinted eyesWe walk through fire,Press on, press on,
And never tire.
We pitched our tent andSet up camp on aMount..
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“The tears of the world are a constant quantity.”
― Samuel Beckett, Waiting for Godot
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So
well-taught, so full of learning, yetWith
judgment blurred and clouded, How
can a man be told and shown theRight
path and still resist and doub..
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Had we
but lives longer than
the blink of an eye,
would we spy the wheel we’re tied to,
and
from the clod,
would we look to the sky?
..
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Old man on a park bench,
Hungry pigeons at his feet.
Gnarled fingers fumble and
Find a small bag of roasted,
Pocket-warm seeds. How fast..
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