Broken Mirror
Sometimes I just sit and stare at an empty page. Nothing comes so I decide to write about nothing which often turns into something. Let’s see. My life’s journey has…
Morning Sickness
I sometimes wake up feeling remorse. It usually diminishes fairly quickly but I wonder how I'll feel tomorrow when I wake up and you're still gone… there are no postcardsin…
Crosswalk
I find myself standing at the corner of Walk and Don’t Walk, waiting in the glow of a streetlamp, the scantest hint of snowflakes floating down through its rays. I…
Life in the Hood
Everyone's heard about the Big Bad Wolf but he's old now. His tail drags on the floor and his whiskers have turned grey. He's constantly being picked on by little…
The Arrangement
the composerpens his Prelude in D . . .solar winds Somewhere, deep in the shadows of his mind, Angelo sits with himself. In his weathered hands he holds a harp…
Deconstruction
morning after the journey from Heaven down to Hellwe flew all night past the warning signs unaware of the dice-roll just ahead. contents of our baggage strewn shredded on the hotel floor — cabbage, torn…
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…
