Thursday, October 27, 2016

Beyond the Breakage

I am the way glass shards try to make music
as what was once whole
falls so hard it leaves no mark
but shatters irreparably apart.

Saturday, October 1, 2016

This is What it is to Live on the Edge

For as long as I have known,
I’ve been on a precipice,
too far back to be called the edge
but too near to be just nameless woods.

Close enough to the end
to imagine rushing it to feel the rush
but far enough to feel like standing with you,
withstanding brash wind is even rougher.

Letter From an Old Poet

 I Day two thousand  one hundred and ninety-one. Our little blue marble has made one modest revolution  around our honey-sweet sun  si...