Calling My Name

In the sandbox of my memory

reasons come and go

Castles worn in corners scorned

left without a moat

 

Granulated laughter

idle unreleased

Waiting for a last return

covered over deep

 

The jungle gym sits dormant

a mass of rusted links

One ring missing ladder gone

the rope swing short and kinked

 

The teeter totter frozen

its pivot rusted tight

The sliding board a one-way trip

fading into night

 

The sandbox of my memory

where feelings go to die

My childhood friends whose echo’s rend

timeless bye and bye

 

Still one last voice is buried

deep within the grains

The one I shunted until now

—calling out my name

 

(The New Room: August, 2022)

 

Reaching For The Cream

Have I finally truly said it all

running out of words

Thoughts and feelings too remote

my pen a blunted sword

 

The doors revolve and seasons change

as Winter calls my name

Whose grammar laced with period ends

and fingers stricken lame

 

A final time my eyes shut tight

to fall into a dream

Just one more word—new phrase to grace

reaching for the cream

 

(Villanova University: July, 2022)

Mockingbird Deboned

Ye cursed with too much knowledge,

all fate’s within your grasp

The destiny of all beguiled

entrenched behind your mask

 

To Thee of grace outstanding,

the rose and bud the same

Beginnings end as endings start

assumptions die unclaimed

 

Oh Ye who brave the mountain,

its winds blow far and chill

Each footstep placed a sin erased

the moment frozen still

 

And Ye who share the journey,

all mockingbird’s deboned

Your wisdom marks a trail unseen

—for others to atone

 

(Las Vegas Airport: July, 2022)