(When my son and I studied world history together, we enjoyed the legend of Alexander the Great. In that spirit, I composed this poem.)
There once was a Macedon lad
Whose mind was a trifling mad.
...
Ocean
lashing the rocks
sculpting my savage coast
where vagrant seagulls loiter and perch …
...
Are you the wind that ruffles
a silent day?
I was walking,
...
Equinox
I’m perusing the aisles of a local retailer
as if strolling through the blossoming rows of a flower garden:
...
An attitude of ending
is the engine of my craft.
All my days, my hours, my now
I’ve been jotting on scraps -
...
My poetry walks barefoot along the winding unpaved road
where beautiful people peddle smiles
that tell a story older than language.
Where sundry patches of fabric
...
Amid the stars and mystery
We all record one history
And tell it to the universe
With voices brilliant and diverse
...
life is wingspan, we
transcend our mending temples
hawk-aspiring
...
Parentheses around my mouth
belie my inner age.
This middle stage of life, in truth,
is rather like a cage.
...