Will there be a breeze in heaven?
And if there is, will skinless souls still
Feel the zephyr’s gentle touch?
...
No line will hold,
meant to divide.
Between youth and age
there is slippage.
...
Putting
on youth so timidly,
the awkward hickory limbs bud and burst,
tremble to an uncertain green;
...
There is always a corner that
harbors dust.
No need to search; it will collect
and make itself a force
...
Linger, rose.
Do not waste your scent
Upon the careless breeze
or give your heart
...
Beauty, to be, must be whole,
contained within boundaries
like a grape within its skin.
And it must have a backdrop
...
Whistle down the chimney, wind!
Wrap your arms around the walls
and make them groan in your embrace.
Challenge every window pane
...
That little dart
you sent my way -
It pricked my heart - brought pain.
No blood was spilled,
...
Having spent my last penny
of self-pity,
I am bereft,
turned inside out
...