The Crucible
Fogbank, weathervane, brain loop, truth-pain,nightmares, night sweats, dementia test, house arrest,smoke-smoke, crappy food, got the trots, ink blots. Roped to a time bomb, locked in a rhyme, Mom,head filled with…
Conflicted
perfect timing . . .the way you makemy heart throb perplexed again . . .why is my love for youso much like madness? vision quest . . .I look into…
Maze
First published in Under the Basho, 2019
Mirror
The beauty of art is that it offers the observer a pathway through their own imagination. cherry treehow many seasonswill I see you bloom
Vanity
I splash my faceand fumble for a towel…sleepy shadow Staring into the mirror, I revisit my present self. Whiskers have returned. Wrinkles all seem in place. Hair still disappearing, a…
Why This?
If I tell you the truth, you may find it messy. But art isn’t about being pretty. Its raison d’etre isn’t to be beautiful; rather, it is for providing the…
Slipping Down the Glass Mountain
I embarkon a vision questto find my identitybut forget to bringmy wallet We reach the top of Feather Falls at about 9 a.m. KC explains that it’s one of the…
Help
I’m in the dark, and I can’t sleep. Mom and Dad just broke up. My pillow’s all wet. The wind's blowing the curtains and they look like ghosts. All I…
On the Edge
I study the anvil cloud through the swish of my wipers. Dark sheets of rain veer from cloud to ground as lightning zigzags through the electrically-charged air. Off to the…
“…therefore I am.”
I’m a seashell, washed up on a distant shore.I’m a pony standing beside the road.I’m lighting striking a church-bell tower.I’m a ladder leaning up against the wall.I’m the last tree…
