Morning Becomes ........

An old song
sprung sung
from pain
Ole Man River
just keeps
rolling along
one need be
neither male
nor on the river
to just
keep
rolling along

Night Rider

I ride the keys

in dark of night
word fragments
sing
sizzle
sting
upon the saddled
keys of night
I open
hands
and loosen
grip

Falling Snow

Here in the quiet
of snow
falling heavily
outside
all is
warm

The Ride -A Love Poem

One day long ago
I stood at the window
and watched
as you a dimpled
faced curly haired
kindergarten graduate
climbed aboard
your bike
and rode
small shoulders
hunched
smile wide
I watched
as you rode
two wheels
for the first
time and
felt my
heart constrict
with your joy

On Waiting

The funny thing about waiting
is that time like mercury
spills
breaks into tiny balls
skittering about the
floor of one's psyche
coalesces into a mass
of shimmering
anticipation
and skitters about
again until the
waiting is
over