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Leaf, Fallen
blood-red stem a narrow thread
to which origin shall we return
darker veins web the blades
do we feel the flow and ebb within
scarlet hues shade throughout
what shadows similarly tint our heart
we ourselves will one day rest just so
will such beauty be our display
yes and yes and yes
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The Abandoned Lot (Poem)
broken bench in the field
stone birdbath in pieces
some few half-buried paving tiles
dreams collapse all the time
this cannot be done
that will not happen
whatever this or that might be
grieve not for the fall
no failure this passage
beauty abides in fallow ground
peace in just this moment
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No Elegy (Poem)
another person killed
the bullet etched by invisible hate
engraved in his own words
the walls he sought to build
failed to protect him
nor will they shield you or you or you
the guns you hold on others
will be your death
when you are falling to the ground
who will come to hold you
the bier upon which you will be laid
the branches that set afire the pyre
the smoke that rises from the flames
all these will not be noticed
the world itself is in conflagration
the mourning is too vast
