Payback

At last the worst is over 

And done with and everything 

 

In order; in return, 

All we have to do is stop 

 

Expecting nothing 

But the best in turn. 

 

 

 

 

Crowing In Absentia

What if I told you the late 

Afternoon skies were full of fright, 

Full scudding black cawing 

Clouds, the people below slowly 

Turning ashen—what shade 

Of grey would you be 

Decked out in tonight? 

 

 

 

Daily Litany

So that that old 

Orb the sun may sink to his knees 

In the end and share 

 

In our humility, poems are 

Offered in turn—who is it now

That hasn’t a prayer?

 

Unwavering Line Of Defense

What I have made 

Of myself, let others offer 

 

Judgement commensurate 

With the facts— 

 

All I can do in return is what 

I do best—demur. 

 

 

 

 

Revelations Of A Third Kind

Certain entities always 

Reveal themselves 

And make us feel right— 

 

Others prefer keeping to 

Dark, out-of-the-way places, 

And under certain circumstances, 

 

This too is all right— 

What’s wrong is never knowing 

When all that’s wrong appears 

 

To be dead right.