Prose & Poetry

In Millburn, New Jersey, opening for business in the 1960’s and effecting me into the next […]

Sonder My window is my own, no one else’s Each of us in a glass case

Lilac screensA kiss of eternityWith semblance of thine doveLanding in my fallen memoryA question from but

This happened years ago when I lived in Los Angeles. It wasn’t a happy time in

True like the sky you can depend onto always be something. Truelike a lily ready to

Photosynthesis turns seedsto swallows, swallows to wind,wind to breath, then the almostindecipherable chirp at sundown. See

“This looks just like 209!” And with those words, my pretense to adult independence came crashing

I can be at a play pre-pandemic or a rock concert or reading a wise book

It is the crashing classical story,  Roaring rise and feathery fall  How knots and cash  Blur