poetry

They sailed away from verdant islands
In search of chocolate and new clothes
Raced around in sports cars, and
Abandoned the farms for the city

Here, as there
a trail winds
among birds
and trees

There is a half-dead possum
In the middle of the road
Hunched over, bleeding
And we drove by

We used to go to the creek
To bathe and fully awaken.
By July, it is nearly dry
A puddle of green waste.

We went for a stroll around the local park
Past bunnies and trees—caught in a maze.
Wandering through the desert for treasure—
To discover that it was buried at home.

Fresh flowers in the morning rain—
Sickly moans throughout the night.
Leaves turning toward the light—
Some scenes are better left unseen.

I’m happy for today
To make a mistake—
Pick up the fragments
And walk away.

After thirty-nine years of work
He clocks-out for the last time.
Family and friends gather round
Eating, drinking – jokes abound

She walked out the door
of the boba store

Billy Sunday stood in the middle of campus
Holding a huge sign, to scare the sinners