Steel Me

Wherever is my friend
Magnolia tree in her front yard

Alternating flecks of shade ‘n sun
Upon my weakened shoulders

As I walk under it and set a spell
A good cry comes

A goodbye cry, finally
To all the disease now felled

Under The Tree

I wish your teacher
Hadn’t taught you hardball
Or you’d have played a bit softer with me

And had I needed
Not to wipe the sweat from your brow
You’d be sleeping, I’d be living a life

Flee now, rejection!
Else I wish forever more
On this Earth, in my dreams, and in heav’n

Of Your Time

Which is better of a tree? Which is better use of me?

To speak of its presence? Saying, “How strong its solemness, standing tall, withstanding all?” Asking you to close your eyes and opine on how it could be that such a tree only sometimes sways and creaks, whilst all creatures around it move about, busily in elsewhere mode?

Or shall I show this photograph…evidencing all my skill? See here my theft of light, my manipulation of mirrors? All the while holding my breath, knowing all I’d offer you was a lie to your eye, an insult to its blessed, innate sense of depth, of dimension?

Walk we instead, up to this friend and touch, even taste its barked bend? It won’t mind! Trace your finger to its roots-there’s solemnity! Follow, follow upward eyes, leaves dancing in the wind. Shading, singing as a friend?

Grown Up

I can only
Seek the magic
In you life
I know you’re there

Ten again
I’m taken back
To Santa Clause
And silly times 

You were there 
I can’t pretend
I didn’t see you
Caring at the tree


Was that photographed tree
Standing strangely tall above the tree line
An old soul of a sapling
Was he?

Were the smallest birds smart
Drawing near to his clear air up there
Beckoned by his branches -come, play!
Were they?

Will people seek solace 
Called by common-ground conscience
Hearing his cry -come up high!
I cannot ask anymore


I’m not bored
I’m just
Batting at baubles 
Hanging from the Christmas tree
Stretching and such
Playing coy
Biding my time 
That other cool cat comes back