Impaled Again

A sword slices through empty space,

the air bleeding as sutures trace

 

To pierce not once but pierce again,

your breath scarlet, its stain portends

 

A breeze sharpens—all time erupts, 

seasons hemorrhage and flow corrupt

 

The wind incited—torn by pain,

truth the loser, impaled again

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2019)

Hidden In Rhyme

A poem,

a riddle

 

An answer

to find

 

A Sage,

 a gamester

 

All truth

undefined

 

What’s hidden,

most treasured

 

Its fortune

to mine

 

Tomorrow

awaiting

 

Sequestered

—in rhyme

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: September, 2019)

Watching ‘Final Portrait’ A. Giacometti

 

 

 

 

 

 

Or Turn You Out

Is remembrance now a hidden tenant,

that lives throughout your home

 

Does it lurk in every corner,

to come out when you’re alone

 

Is the voice heard down a distant hall,

a lost child once left about

 

Does that face now staring through the dark,

draw you in—or turn you out

 

(Villanova Pennsylvania: April, 2017)