Blue Horses
White pill for pain
Poetry
Gravel
The boy stared at the flag-shadow as it waved / from the confluence of the walls and ceiling.
Picking Blackberries
If we are lucky, facts of life will force us to accept the reality of our desires our fears and unleash our innate need to express ourselves, to achieve self-literacy through …
Building A Silence
Street empty as a healing heart, I lean the patio wall, Swisher Sweet packed with pot, friends equally afraid. Wednesday brings the chill, hawks fleeing ahead. They say it’s a west wind— it …
Thoughts Along I-75 South
Under horizon-to-horizon lead, with intermittent rain more mist than drops, we cleave Michigan north to south, driving between stands of pine and birch that go on mile after mile after …
The Question of Poetry
It first appeared as a white patch on the ivy covered wall near an open window of the arts building It caught my eye immediately Like paint spilled on a canvas of green Not …
Oklahoma Dust
Dust on the dash, windows up as we roll through back roads, radio on static. I will never leave you – in my head, not on my tongue – as mile markers disappear into a cool sunset. That flight …
Mirror, Mirror
“What’s that?” My father and I were cleaning out my grandmother’s railroad apartment and had come near the end of the hallway with her chest of drawers. “Your grandmother’s bed sheets.” He …
Flight
You’re strapped in for the hour flight, when a young woman, all flush and out of breath, stops at your row, apologizes with her eyes for making you get up. You fumble with the seat belt, …