Smoky Hoss Poems

Here I sit
At a desk dimly lit.
Holding an unsharpened pencil
Over a piece of old, faded paper,
...

Planted long ago, a single old birch
barely stands behind a little country church,
there, once to show the grave
of one who passed so brave,
...

Wine and whiskey
brandy and beer,
among them all
one thing seems quite clear:
...

Think what we might
all is never quite right,
though closer and closer we may get
truly, we are nowhere near there yet -
...

If wings were words
that came to fly,
one must wonder
would poems fill the deep blue sky?
...

Walking through life,
from one end to the other;
living and dying...mercy and grace,
all sacred ground,
...

Words
and ways
in sighs
of nays;
...

I'm walkin down the street
like ol Fats Domino;
walkin down the street
wonderin where to go -
...

Strange is it not
the answers life gives, and gives not,
the things we strive to know
that here ardently refuse to show;
...

Silent departures in the deep of night
is as autumn's aura
a melancholy clear,
and a cool umber bright -
...