King of the Castle

Dandelions are brave
They have no fear of falling
From gutter to grave

Luster Lost

Through evening haze the wintry sun shines weak and cold
Thin shards stretched far and low to fill my eyes with gold
Freeze-framed and silent, fifty summers whisk away
Seduced by light and cruelly tricked by evening's shadow-play

Coma

She slips from sleep to silence swirling deep and slow
through eyes ajar sucks in the soft light's subtle glow
enraptured mind drifts free of corpus sapiens
dispassionately watched through sentience's lens

Still Life

Like drooping flowers, station lights
breathe out upon the grimy trains
Delicately, sepia'd nights
birth yellow ghosts as moon's light wanes

geola thiccet

slow-sapped winter branches rake the darkly brooding sky

their spindly hands stand sentry over sylvan silhouettes

the lichen-girt bark shivers as the northern winds slip by

thrusting toes beneath the earth, the spinney dozes and forgets

Contaminated

Tho' cock's crow wakes the oil-streaked tract

the sterile earth lies drained and cracked

and dawn's first blush in vain, finds nature's children broken-backed

Hourglass

My vast horizon slowly shrinks

above the unseen thief

Built on sand my short life sinks

mere fleeting tenure's fief

Oh darling Clepsydra, don't cry

your lacrimae are mine

With every tear I slowly die

my ebbing hours now brine