Old Pictures

I like to look at the old pictures, the black and whites, from long ago. They are the time machine of memory, some real, some not mine. They are all gone now, even the one behind the camera. “I will see you soon,” he said. And now he is gone as well. December 13, 2021


For a few brief moments I saw our Moon, floating low in the sky. It was just a quarter, shielded by the curvature of our Earth, that shaped itself clearly enough to know we are a Planet, a World, hanging in the absent gravity of space. The shadow of our smudged orb, eating its way … Continue reading Moon

Like Being There or Feeling

A dangling conversation A poem from a hidden place Like being there when Caesar was impaled Or feeling sympathy when your enemy expired The price of freedom is Love on the edge of oblivion Like being there when Gandhi cried When integrity was murdered A collection of foreign thoughts A response to what was said … Continue reading Like Being There or Feeling


In the night's hollow, it comes seeping through the crack between sleep and dream. Dark builds, echoes become memories, all things are shattered, it is empty, shadows shine black. The realization, the hag upon my chest, the horror that I am not immortal descends upon me like a reaper from beyond and strangles me in … Continue reading Immortal

Just A Memory

And then you were gone, like a lost memory. Except for your thoughts, your words, your creations, people real and not real, imprecise, and yet so precise. Like all those others, you are a mystery, no longer able to shed light or shadow. All those famous ones, and infamous and all who go unknown except … Continue reading Just A Memory