Prose & Poetry

A croaking frog romancing the dark             amplified by night’s silence                         singing notice me, find

When we are not delivered From The Romans The Klan The Gestapo The Polarized From Shame

Billowing white sails steer about a ripply river, Shimmering and tender twenty-somethings diving in, bobbing up,

Wave after wave, crests with each ascension, descension Gathering at some unknown point  traveling to its

Admire I do a skin so thick, Often thin on young illusion Some peel too as

One  man helping a woman on the ground Phone in one hand Other hand raised shielding

I used to think the break was the end of the story –a heap of porcelain

(To Zoe on Turning Two) Not many memories stay put,but this one has deep roots.Zoe reminds

I saved you half of my sandwich.It was Swiss cheese and bacon,smeared with blackberry jam. It