Lunch Break Poem
Kids from the suburbs | on a field trip | to the Park Blocks | parade farmers’ market | bunches of dahlias | strawflowers, | and the lance-shaped ones | that symbolize grief.
Read MoreTag: time
How Brief, Yet How Full
How brief, yet how full that first encounter | between you in your prime and me in my | secondhand life. | Hello, treasure hunter, would you like to dig through this box of mine?
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Someday This Will All Be Gone
Time tends to create an opaque membrane | with more limited optical clarity | behind the lenses of eyes | that automatically adjust for distant targets
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What Remains Vivid Now
the memory of the pansy, bold faced, persisting
through whiplash weather.
March 14: snow.
March 15: storm of pollen
over the mountains,
across the flats,
down into the valleys —
okay poetry 