On:

Do I mention you by name? Tell them how I lost you? Or do they already know –your presence already humming in the hive? This honey-colored day should be gray, misted and fogged as my dreams.Or maybe not. Maybe the sun glides over the sycamores and sweet gums, flecks theContinue Reading

On:

Sky polished, the mirror of night blinks its button-lights, twilightsurrendering to the shock of crescent moon. An owl spooksthe cedars leaning with the wind, upper branches creaking in the hickories.What can’t be seen in midsummer shadow is the latch that locks the phantomsof past desires. Stare into this darkness. TheContinue Reading

On:

A crust of moon slicesthe dawn, clouds furrowingfirst lavender then peachbefore robin’s egg blue perchesthe horizon. My futurehangs in the balance, strangersnibbling my profile, uninterestedin living, only in scrollingthrough yesterday’s choices.Sun brightens, gulpswhat’s left of night,and I abandon the bed, mourningsleep. My cousin lingerspartly in the Gulf Stream, partlyin Ohio’sContinue Reading

On:

Even with Samhain closing in, there’s no fog or mistthat divides the living and the dead. I’m already a ghost –a brief blur you might remember. No halo around the hunter’s moonwhere clouds hover then shrug and move on. Maples and oaks shufflewhat’s left of their leathered leaves, bear theContinue Reading