Thursday, March 31, 2011


brew the coffee hoping
that today will be
the day -
wondering if the miracle
is on its
merry way.

stare out the kitchen window
as the night begins
to fall –
wondering if the miracle
is having hope
at all.

Thursday, March 24, 2011


There’s a glint of sun that glows
on a patch of grass that grows
where the earth is damp and broken
where the slug and sowbug goes

As December crashed and froze
January thumbed her nose -
March slips rings upon my fingers
and ties bells onto my toes

Somewhere lily laughs with rose
sewing jewels on their clothes
turning green eyes towards the bluebells
coyly tying on their bows

Scenes repeated, I suppose,
in spectacular tableaus
all around a world yawning
buds and birds as bright hellos

February, in her throes
spat me out upon her floes –
March’s outstretched wing descended
just before the rats and crows

Someday I’ll get there to those
valleys, mountains and plateaus
where the arc of every petal
outshines all our poems and prose

but today, I’m glad to doze
in this patch of grass that grows
smelling sweet earth, damp and broken
where a glint of sunlight glows.