journey

I loaded my trailer
with leaves and branches,
filled it with cuttings
from our backyard trees.

Hitched up the trailer,
rolled down the windows,
started the engine, Continue reading

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Song

The flaming bush
ignites as
days grow cool

and music speaks
from every
trembling leaf.

And we, consumed Continue reading

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at the door

I can’t tell who is;
don’t want to know.

The knocking continues
without pause,
as if I should rush to the door
answer the door
on command.

It’s like the phone: Continue reading

Posted in aging, lotus eaters, Poetry, thoughts below ground | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments