Blue eye crying
Faces in objects:
Less is More
There was once a time when most believed
that people needed to own few material objects.
Somewhere along the way, this sensibility was lost.
Now we re-learn the lesson and move gently forward
into the echoing vacant malls of our collected conscience.
Summer Storms
The Allegheny Valley from our balcony at 8:00 p.m.
Desert Thorns
I can tell, by the way you look,
we would be great friends.
Blue Bridge
bridges are so hopeful
Potions
Heidi’s cooking oils in colorful bottles
before a bay window with the afternoon
sun’s sparkling reflections.
Tender Ferns
You were here in the time of dinosaurs.
If only we could understand your tall tales
and whispers in the evening wind.
The Mind
the mechanics of a mind
turning rusty with ample time
grinding teeth, fails to find
strings to silence and to bind
Old Doors
magic and memories,
wonder and wizards,
the unexplained and the unexpected,
gold dust and glitter might
live quietly behind old doors
Fog
Sorrow clings like fog
spanishwoods 