latest poems

on this crowded pathway

I look upon my only friend

the moon through branches bare

muddied stream

by orange light

of setting sun

highway hum

overtakes my

stepping sound

peace—not found

in an ode or the pen

but in the forest

of the real

cut down for pasture

littering sunset skies

the crisscrossed trails

of belching beasts

rustling pines

under starless

moonshine

a flash of orange

summer's closing

brings the royals

stalwart pines

on the edge of tracks

bearing secrets

golden sunset pours

over the shimmers

of Debussy's clavier

imperceptible rain

beyond the patio

mountain sunshine

menacingly suspended

the beast

films irreverent

jackdaw calls

on the evening breeze

to be kicked out by a fucking cop

fading melodies turn to silence

on a side street's dimly lit path

the siren breeze of springtime

fallen petals

purple and starred

cheerleaders to the bloom

dark clouds at sunset's end

retreating east

into night's embrace

nothing new under the sun

I stare out the darkened window

at a road always under repair

the bay turns to canvas

in the morning stillness

the sky paints away

after the bloom

memories of pink

across the windswept plaza

water reflecting a moonless sky

another unremarkable Monday fades

I mark the evening with this poem

outside the window

the reeds dancing

on the riverbank

refresh the page again

to see content already read

surfing on a windy night

an apple, a morning tea

that's it

take a nap

without a hat I venture

warm enough outside

alas, the melting snow

snow covered court

windswept evening

awful shot

if an AI understood

the nature of Microsoft Excel

delete system32

early morning flakes

on the crisp storefronts

reminders of time past

sniffing the scent of fresh snow

i sip my coffee

in the Adirondack chair

the tree branch sags

white with snow

after the blizzard

beauty lingers for an instant

frigid chill at

the corner of the rooftop

the morning doves squawk

gentle silence

the light flashes walk

to windswept flurries

gliding gulls, soaring grey

buffeted to and fro by

snowfall above the river

melting snow

on a bonsai refugee

lounging atop its napkin

just for a moment

a breath of cold

ah!

bird swarms circling

at the dying light

slashed net swaying

ghostly whispers

of an absent crowd

clinging to a time

no longer here

the delight

of reading a poem

you forgot you wrote

I pick it up and read the news

why do I do this to myself?

morbidly I turn the page

sky and tarmac grey

deep breath and glasses fogged

sans scarf a chilly Friday

every day

a sunset

the howling wind

bids me welcome

along the dimly dark path

one foot after another

the shimmering black tarmac

on the cusp of autumn's night

the dying autumn twilight

torn asunder by

the chorus of birds

storm clouds on the way?

a quick check proves me wrong

but the doubt lingers

standing tall with basket in tow

the line stretches on, endless

testament to our shame

the sky rains the trees' bounty

falling leaves and

quiet on the mountaintop

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