Dead in Its Tracks

Suddenly we saw

The world had stopped

And we started,
Our eyes startled

By the absolute
Beauty of all

That naked stillness.

Gearing up for the Next Poem

When you know the humble

Snail’s left a trail

Of silver

For you to follow,

Remember before

You put it in low,

It has no high gear

And can’t

Reverse.

Fireworks For The Downtrodden Masses

That dazzling

Independence Day light show was over

In a flash—

In its place, a mass

Of black

                  

Boot heels treading holes left 

Right between the whites 

 

Of once fiery eyes. 

The Plot

To be drawn

From the forefront

Back into the ground

When least expected

Gentle reader,

So simple,

So profound.

Thomas Alva Edison aka The Batman

What's that you say? You thought Batman was Bruce Wayne? Put your glasses on and take another look.