To begin at the beginning: |
A
man...
On a bright blue canvas angelic feathers blaze,
backlit from a crisp November sun...
When blackbird sings a song for him
from snowy perch all crisp and trim...
sleeping
within polyanthus...
Trump Tweeting,
uncharacteristically...
as the body count
careered out of control those...
writing poetry
for my mirror revealed a...
Incessant flies are buzzing
In these fire-hydrant times...
Bringing my library
On every journey was not...
Without hope how would a broken heart ever mend? |
Even a Silverback knows when it's beaten |
Despite ourselves we walk into life's fire |