“Tardy Morning Sun” Now Live On Spillwords Press NYC

    damp, frosty grass was a sad soul to bare feet   her heart dangling from a pale elbow in a drowsy fog   besieging her as tears hymn, turning to ice on cold flesh   five months passed since her husband was planted to earthly rest       laying by the lake,…

Blood Petunias

coming from the land of the drunken sunwhere he ended and I barely dare becomeshe was a crow that brought us all togetherrum drizzling, thunderbolt winter weatherrioting lot she was afflicting all kinds of harmliving on those four acres of our teeny farmbleeding red petunias into fine white sandthriving while growing things on fertile landforgiveness…