i watch the ants move
in single disciplined file
each with a reason
...
i paint your face
with velvet brushes
to soften the image
i try to recall
...
Dripping, it falls drop
by drop, downward, slow, until
nature's tears are dried.
...
dove coos a love song
in the distance an answer
drifting on the wind
...
early spring blossoms
catching the warming breeze
i sit here watching
...
Take my hand
Close your eyes and breathe easy
As we walk through the minefields
Rising all around us
...
There is a shortage of white bread in America.
Too many other choices have led to this shortage.
We have wheat,
Wholewheat,
...
Those Who Write Poetry
those who write poetry
do so,
even though there are
those who wonder
why bother?
we write even though
the odds are
no one will ever
take the time
to read
what we write.
let alone understand
what we choose to write
or even
the very reason
we must write it
in the first place
regardless
of all the above.
(8-22-1978