Metaphysical Iris

Sense! 

You keep after me saying it’s merely 

A matter of sense but in what sense 

Shall you stalk me in my absence? 

Final Electrifying Performance before the Polls

The firebrand 

Sturm und Drang poet turned 

Pol knew he had them 

Eating out of his hands when 

Their brows were singed 

By a tumultuous clap 

Of thunder. 

Nuff Said

He wanted to snuff 

Death out 

Of his nostrils. 

Old Timers' Resurrection

Easter is the time 

We are reminded of 

Christ’s incredible feat— 

Believe it or not, it happens 

Every year without fail 

And we rejoice once more 

And wonder if we’ll live 

To remember it 

Next year. 

Field

Of composition: 

The red wind- 

Swept wind 

Flowers encircling 

A lone 

Wild fig tree tossing 

In the center 

Of an undulating 

Green.