It snowed today.
Not the snow of white
But a drift of petals pink
Like a flight of pillow down.
...
White knights
-Impaled-
On candles,
All their deeds
...
Why do we run around the
Track counterclockwise?
It seems to me we are
Running against the flow,
...
Geese in stroke like rowers,
With wings in dip and pull
To scull across the sky.
Deep vees in fowl regatta.
...
I count to ten.
Please breathe.
Any sound would be so sweet.
French horns pinched
...
Poems are like pictures.
You edit them and think that's okay.
You edit them again
And think whatever.
...
It was not the blossoms
higher up that
I remember.
Those were for the birds
...
There is a prejudice against dark
poems. Few are ever written and even
fewer are rated or commented on. Life
has many dark sides to it.
...