#486. kick the can

November 26, 2011

calling me home
with the darkening dusk
and the endless street games
going on with the seductive voices 
of the other children ringing the seratonin 
bells of longing to belong in my traitor heart

fear bringing us all home to a silent dinner table
father mother and son and son and son 
in the house by a now dead cherry tree
we ate and became the family that i cannot find

anywhere in time the deep echo of my name 
still rolls down the block behind the houses
of neighbors up green suburban knolls
where the kids all wrestled as one 
in the coming night of life
calling me home

#424. cycled

November 6, 2010

my mothers
eyes look out through mine
and so i know
more about her at last memory
than the child
hiding the old man i am now
become grey 

#283. lost

June 4, 2010

without a word
the little girl
draws me in
small and bouncing flirt
who pushes me
to my memories
of my own children
lost so long ago
that only their vague shapes
remain to me

#260. legacy

May 12, 2010

i try to
ensphere time
within these lines
because the colors
run out of my dreams
as soon as i close my eyes

i leave my colors in front of me
that my children may find the now
behind them

#174. men in the mirror

February 15, 2010


fathers apart
from their sons

we go on
and our tears exult

how separation is


sons apart
from their fathers

our tears go on
and we exult

how connection is


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