Early morning drive takes me back to old haunts Café con leche starts my morning as I forgo my usual black coffee No artificial sweetener for this concoction Time for real sugar, otherwise the nostalgia is simply not the same My Cuban toast arrives and I realize that this is enough bread to feed a […]Read more "Alas, So Must I"
From her vantage point I’ve often wondered how she sees my colors I’ve shown her every shade of my red from muted to vibrant She’s seen my darkest black, a hue where all light has been vigorously hidden She’s seen the yellows of despair and the yellows of childhood nostalgia She’s seen me in disguises […]Read more "The Colors Of Sunday Morning"
Reality opens its window and tosses bits of fate out into the banks of lessons Fragments of a destiny we neither own or control are spread over the canvas of our existence in a hue of absence Forcing us to face our emotions, display our feelings and react Life is a series of these reactions […]Read more "We Were Here Together"
1975 and 2018 collide today in a mixture of wants and needs I can’t easily describe I don’t know why I miss the what and the who I didn’t have for long (as much as I still miss him today) Wounds of the heart are supposed to heal with time Forty-three years is a long […]Read more "Forty-Three"
Noise contained is nothing but noise Fear its opposite Silence contained is like a ticking bomb It waits It demands attention It will find volume It will find the boom Sometimes by showing the carnage of emotional damage Sometimes by muting the colors of an otherwise healthy soul Silence breaks out and when it does… […]Read more "The Silence Breakers"
Privacy and discretion be dammed Pictures, scribbles, notes, posts and quotes They line these virtual pages of my history My contribution is abundant as I get caught up in the likes and comments Not totally an open book, but generally accessible for viewing the hues of my life I put all the colors out there […]Read more "More Of A Heaven Thing"
I woke up startled The dream had been too real There he was, alive Talking to me I heard the voice Clear as day Crystal clear as a forty-year old absence can deliver from the depths of a once child’s psyche Asking him where’d he’d been all this time Shooting questions faster than he could […]Read more "The Voice"