City Scrawl

I drag solitude with me everywhere

like a toddler trailing a blanky, 

its fabric heavy with briars, seed husks 

and longing, 

drenched in pine must, leaf mud 

and wish

but draped over and around me

it lifts, lightens, breathes

like the mist of cirrus clouds

and becomes my hearth and haven

cradling within

tiny silences -

the pulse of pine sap and worm crawl

the wistful weep of nestlings

the warble of sunlight on water

and I find I am home blissful. 

“The Lights” Came the Summer We Were 13

They couldn’t be fireflies

-those flitting lovelights that kiss the dark

and perfume the air like sun-soaked grass-

but their yellow-globed flit and flicker

suggested winged critters.


but buzzing in our blood like bee-hum,

they flickered in paired flashes -

two eyes blinking in coded dance

before our guileless gaze

bedazzling us with glitter and glimmer

of possibility

  of first kisses, candlelit wishes,

  of twilight dances and blushing romances 

  of railway passes and seafaring classes

we called them “The Lights,” unaware

they were the shimmer of 

stardust and wanderlust flickering our veins

Red Sky at Night

Evening flight

when sun-ripened wind holds its breath

and hawks lift their wings in praise

to spiral godward on thermals 

that steeple the sky with heat

And, dad, fleet of faultless joy

lifts off the grass runway to soar

with the gulls and swifts

in cirrus swirls of pink and crimson pilots’ delight.

Wrens of regret

that winged conflagration

of endless flickering and twittering 

that smothers silence

and strews disintegrating husks of memory

All that is Lost



in the still of leaf weep,     

in the stir of the sap spill,

dryads sigh sotto voce 

elegy for the

rootless crownless

souls loosened from

dying trees.


they seep into my sleep

vining tendrils of regret,

branches laden with longing

foresting my dreams

with the memory of us

sun drunk

with the quickening  tang of winesap. 

Forest Song

I hear the trees whispering again 

A shiver of sound 

giving voice to



the thrum of rising sap

in my arteries.

wonder is nascent

filigreeing like capillaries

of willow branches

as they sing,

moth-winged and translucent 

tonguing the sough 0f the forest heartbeat


When sunlight

shines inward upon itself

banking its embers

and scattering a flicker of sparks

across the city 


cathedral spires

discarded hubcaps 

and garret windowglass,

moths arise,

untent their stealth wings

and breeze together 

in a fluttering hover of 


to kiss the sun’s flame

with blushing proboscis

tasting the nectar of everlasting life.