Potomac Farmhouse Diner Entrées after a Freak Summer Shower

Garnishing the fowl 
Broiling, steaming sun 

Basted squealers roiling 
In a heap of muck served 

With relish on the veranda. 

A Poem Should Be (10)

Battle-scarred, still 
Undying, like that word now 
On the tip of your tongue 

Long forgotten, dead 
To a world waiting to burst 
Forth from the rubble 

Your speech has become. 

Spirited Away

On a day never to be 

Forgotten, this day will return 
No longer 

To haunt you. 

Janus-faced

Poker face and all, 
Everyone knew he was given 
To hiding behind a facade all day.

All for naught! 

For no one called his bluff, 
No one dared face the thought 
Of giving one’s self away. 

Reciprocal Gestures of a Different Kind

Love, not taking in 
Everything you throw my way 
Does not mean I do not appreciate how 
You take in everything 
I throw your way.