Poetry

If…

it was like a sink that was overflowing, built up and up and up.

then it was drained; the pipes rusted over; the slight drip and drip and drip.

tantalizing.

then the water rushed like geysers do, hot and momentarily solid.

This is the first poem in my poetry anthology, The Sun Will Rise Again.

I was eight when it began.

I was left clinging to sunshine

As the sun descended below the horizon.

Springtime has arrived,

cherry blossoms bloom wildly,

trees are green again.

On misty moons, I wander free,

Escaping life's cacophony,

The world's too loud—a fading sound,

As nature's peace enfolds me round.

I remember 
the first time I saw it 
the sun beating down on my face 
the other kids laughing and playing to their heart's content 
brings a smile to my face 

I will fight forever

When it seems like all is lost I will fight harder

When I trip and fall I will bleed words and be stronger

When I can no longer write I will speak until they cower

When all we have is spent 

What will we have left? 


Like an animal that runs through the forest 

Searching for the last of its kind to go 

It’s eighty degrees.

It is barely even spring.

What is going on?

Taking a walk along the beach with my sister

We took the evening to ourselves 

to drive to the beach and watch the sunset

It’s rare that we get to spend this time alone together

There once was a sheep

Who ate grass by the heap

It wandered through shops

It trotted across streets

Then it happened upon wheats

Which it devoured in six heavenly feasts

i see things that no human ever should:

the intricate coding of life

an emotion held by the gaze of one person to another

a tear falling silently that helps grow a daffodil.

i am a poet