Giving time

a voice

The moment

set free

Giving time

a voice

A fait

accompli

Giving time

a voice

The past

greets today

Giving time

a voice

Tomorrow

— in play

(The New Room: September, 2026)

Movies

were the dream

merchants

of America

As people

flocked daily

to their local

big screen

Envisioning

life

in those celluloid

images

Seeing

themselves

come alive

— and redeemed

(Dreamsleep: September, 2026)

A fetching title

can save a poem

Like a fiery maestro

can free a song

Its marching orders

endorse each line

And beat a cadence

that words define

To set the page

and clear the way

It stakes a claim

to all you say

While some may tout

“It’s Just A Name”

The Sage reminds us

— its crown reclaims

(Dreamsleep: September, 2026)

The human voice

is different

from every other sound

Imploring nature

and its Lord

to which our souls are bound

Each word expressed

to stand alone

alive inside the din

To free what noise

would only hide

— in echoes whispered thin

To be judged

not as good

as his parents

To be known

for the things

he was not

His legacy

paled

in the afternoon light

With a name

that misfortune

— had wrought

(The New Room: September, 2026)

The power of poetry

the world is our Muse

No part unimportant

no win and no lose

Alive and unending

she waits to be born

Inside what we’ve written

with joy — and forlorn

From Everest to Mariannas

her messages lie

Above and below us

to welcome inside

Reborn with each musing

her power to save

inside every passage

— from birth to the grave

(The New Room: September, 2026)

Our truth

a painful fusion

Without it

but illusion

Tatanka

flees the mighty grass

Our future

— in the past

(Pine Ridge South Dakota: September, 2026)

I never thought

I would get this old

I never thought

I would feel this cold

I never thought

 that my sight would fail

I never thought

I would lose the trail

I never thought

that my friends would die

I never thought

that the truth could lie

I never thought

that the time would come

I never thought

— that my race had run

(Dreamsleep: September, 2026)

Emily was born

inside of a poem

Without the belabor

of words in her knowing

Ending each lyric

before it began

No start and no finish

— in place where she ran

(Amherst Massachusetts: September, 2026)

Dreams

camouflage time

in the magic

of sleep

Taking

us inward

with messages

deep

Dreams

are a bridge

crossing

into the light

Where words

become tokens

of eternal

— delight

(Dreamsleep: September, 2026)