Flirting with Death

It’s much easier to lie

in the afternoon light,

steady’s the humming

bird that takes flight.

Oh whispering wind

forgive me tonight,

how flirting with death

has been a delight.


Tree lined
suburban, shadowed
street signs
stand aloof
in the quiet morning
daylight gloom
of happy homes
opened doors
and kisses. Questions
fall like flower petals
on sidewalks, cracked
by ancient roots
whose planted hands
can only tell
the difference between
early mornings
and daylights answers.
But the sky is new,
and the desert
Golden, only as old
as the moon which hangs
still as the sun
does rise over broken
glass bottles, which dress
Winnetka, asphalt
like a torn evening gown
come morning.

Everyone I know’s the titles

Everyone I know’s the titles

They just don’t read the words

Writing’s an endless cycle

I start to feel the burn

Sunlight it is healing

Too much can make it worse

Moonlight is revealing

My answer’s questioned first

But who am I to argue

The writing’s on the wall

No pages left to sift through

Like dominoes they fall

Everyone I know’s the titles

They just don’t read the words

This feeling’s infantile

I know not which is worse

Topanga Canyon sunlight

Topanga Canyon sunlight

falls gently on my head

The moon hangs in the distance

her eyes blue sky in bed

A squirrel’s picking berries

the tree of life is fed

It’s summer in the valley

there’s no more to be said

walking the corner of my eye

If that’s not you

walking the corner of my eye

then who? I wonder,

who’s shadow unwinds?

Overhead like a compass,

creation of time. Time

and again, like time were a crime.

Wasted. Lost. Forgotten. Blind.

Memories fade, they never die.

So if that flutter of feather is you,

alright that’s fine. It’s much ado.

So when they ask you calmly why

won’t you share yourself with I?

I have and will, see I am I

unanswered we are now defined.

two sparrow

This morning, a sparrow

gnaws at my ear, his absence

is all that I see, while sunlight

casts shadows on tree limbs

I hear, nothing but sparrow clearly

while stillness, and calm

fly all through the air, impressions

a Renoir scene, two sparrow

take wing, like dancers I hear

them tip toe paint gracefully.