Tag Archives: loss

Balloon and Jukebox

She would name the balloon Clarice. She always thought she should have been named Clarice. Perhaps in another life. Clarice was yellow. She decided that Clarice should go on a journey. She would open the window and let her out. … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Postcard from the Edge

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Tatters

For many years I asked Grief to wait outside my window, a peripheral guest chancing obscure, fugitive details, and lighted tatters. Have I been a poor host, stranger to my own ghost and remnants?

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

The Argument

Reality and me have disagreements all the time. Reality is, by nature, inviolable. And a bit of an existential bully. I am, by illicit union, a child of fiction. And tender in the center. Reality and me don’t always see … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged , , , , | Leave a comment

Fathers and Sons

I understand that I am not only with my father and grandfather as family, but also as a writer. I am sketching them. The mechanical hand in my mind that never stops is charting and sketching and composing them. I … Continue reading

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Street Song

Screen black. Sounds of traffic. Fade in to city street at night. Cut to traffic lamp turning green to red. Cut to other shots of the city at night. Cut to a MERMAID, lying in the middle of a street … Continue reading

Posted in Prose, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Gloam

Fretted, to beckon gloam, and slant felt shadows, I cannot hold what was never mine to grasp.

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Vortex

Inevitable, the vortex calling her back– Little girl’s first loss.   (Photo by Heather Ross)

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Remainder

Sometimes, the children who have gone underground, the chance orphans who choose spelunk or burrow or blackest pitch out of necessity and survival instinct, leave behind tangible remnants of their former lives, sacrificed to sights and gods unseen by morally … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Bench

You know the story, the bench, the promise, the waiting, the interminable stretch of waiting, and the love that never returned, as the girl became a woman and then dead. You know the legend, how the woman is still waiting, … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Uncategorized | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment