Live your days with purpose,

and death walks by your side


To constantly remind,

what time will not abide


Your choice on how to handle,

ignore or then befriend


That last step left untaken

—where life begins again


(Bryce Canyon: August, 2019)

Angels On Mute

Welcome loneliness my old friend,

to mark the hours emptiness sends


In the middle of the cold and dark,

the vanishing call of a last meadowlark


leaving me stranded,

deep in the well


Counting the minutes where time has conspired,

lusting for something whose clock has expired


This silence a chorus of Angels on mute,

promising nothing, all vows to refute


left and abandoned

—deserted in hell


 (Villanova Pennsylvania: November, 2020)