Author Archives: Ken Greenman

When does day begin? It isn’t, it isn’t, isn’t Is. Natures reostat turns slowly on a Winter dawn. I shiver in the chill. A bitter breeze. Icy suns first glimmer reflected on a snow dot caught in an oaks bark. … Continue reading →

Delight are you to me! My dot in time with you alloyed with nothing but joy and cheer like diamonds dappled on my way. I am old, but wise, own no deed in the land of fools who toss their … Continue reading →

You, owner of my heart, you, sharer of our world. Your signature on my soul established loving provenance these many years ago. You, through joy, pain, full and empty days stayed. Now, in the Winter of Our Year, to you, … Continue reading →

The voyage must end. This is iron. The when is shrouded in mist. The moment is not of our knowing. The how can be ours to face. I wish my journey to cease at sea. I will float lightly across … Continue reading →

The flame that melts the ore creates the steels strength. The heat that breaks the irons core shapes the rapier. The gods create the wild storm driving us to the reef. Then they foment the swirling wave which tosses us … Continue reading →

We age strange, the older,the younger. At last we are childrens children. Then reverse return, womb bound egg to mother. Then as seed fertilized, we begin again.

The Buddah is not so strong in me to see a sequel as so sorrowful. I have not suffered such to not desire a second or seventh sojourn on the ever spinning circle. There have been Springs, laughs, certain victories … Continue reading →

My wife smells like my wife, not some confection of lillac! Bottle her scent, I say, in some cosmic emulsifier. Spray the universe, adding a hint of her to Gods pervasive eau’ de amour.

Grandma cradles grandson, rocking in the night. The old clock unlocks. Thirty years are gone. Mommy cradles daughter, rocking in the night, while the new clock tocks in rythum with her delight. There are moments, gifts from heaven, when decades, … Continue reading →

The sun oozed over the mountains ridge, a flash fire in a line, turned mornings haze to briliance a chromatic at a time. Its rays caught crystal ice chips which lay as diamonds sown, converting them to rainbows, washed across … Continue reading →