We are One

How do we maintain a balance

between apart and a part?

Lean too far one way, one lose’s

humanity, too far toward the other,

and one loses one’s soul.



I am I, as you are you;

yet, I am also you, as you are me,

as well. There is no other way,

other than each other. The hope

of god’s redemption lies with us.

(May 30, 2021)

Chagrin

Outside, a butterfly flits

across the sun-dipped tips

of black-eyed Susans

swaying in the wind:

While inside, I struggle

with what to write.

(May 21, 2021)

Old Age

Along convoluted back trails

misted in vague familiarity,

we wonder in our ruins,

grown strange and inevitable

across dry rivers and dead grass.

Former landmarks fall to rubble,

become base for new towers,

new ways, not ours.

Then as if by accident,

as if with purpose,

we arrive each moment,

near-sighted and deaf

to regale in our misfortune,

repeating yet another iteration

of the story we all wear,

like chains forged from dust.

(May 20, 2021)

Bone Tired

SONY DSC

yet another day

with another grey sunset,

my glass is empty.

(May 13, 2021)

Alone

I fear silence

for it leaves me

to my words.

Their whispers

mouth

my periphery,

like minnows

tear a worm’s

flesh from

the steel hook

glimmering

in a creek’s

slow eddy.

(May 11, 2021)

turn turn turn (140)

with spring’s violence flowers burst

into bloom from winter’s death

as chimes toll slowly in the tree


mere weeks ago ice creaked

tightly along the chase tree’s

twisted branches as the chimes

hung limp and people froze

to death alone at home

(May 9, 2021)

community spread (139)

when listening to someone speak

each word takes root

along the tendrils of the unsaid

a pattern emerges

branch grafted on old wood

flowers to mourn the newly dead

(May 8, 2021)

ways of knowing (138)

certainty’s a razor’s edge

pressed lightly across skin


i draw a line along

the length of my arm


tracing a blue vein

a way in a way out

(May 4, 2021)

as the world burns (137)

the turn was not a turn

you saw with my eyes

I blinked it vanished


she said no it was

not as you said

the way I knew it to be


the ragged lines spoke

with stranger accents

skewed cognates


the way was only 

the way here

the sole path here


the sky cleared

the sky stormed

the rain was dry


the way here was

the only way here

only me here now


I only know

this language

the words come to me


by birth

by chance

by god


she said yes but

not as you said

only what I said


it was the way

I knew the way

the way I said

(May 3, 2021)

how history begins (136)

maps do not speak 

as vaguely blurred 

vowels along riverbanks 

where second cousins 

two counties removed 

slur to their mates 

nor sift for finer 

details in pap’s 

bourbon tongue 

(April 26, 2021)