A Tangled Poetic Matter

On a bluff over the sea,

Under a low-lying wind-swept
Canopy of pines, a bed

Of matted needles where
The high-strung strident

Body composes itself
By lying silent.

Stray Pen: A Pathetic Fallacy

Poor lonely poem

Without a home,
Sick to death

Of loneliness
I put you down,

All alone.

Air of Rebellion

Yours truly, love
In all ways

Fair but unruly
As the wind playing

Havoc in your hair.

Fancy That

Now if you could
Only remember how

To perceive you can
Imagine how

It must have felt
Before you forgot.

Exit Stage Right

.

at this point,

someone always leaves

.

open the curtain

.

you closed last

.

night