Author Archives: Ken Greenman

The willow in the back yard the one I would watch from my window when the wind whooshed the branches the one I would swing from, would shout my joy from, is dead is gone the shade on the dew-soaked … Continue reading →

In a mall ART shop, by Rosemond someone… someone in blues, greens, browns, on beige canvas, mohogany framed. A face exquisite, round petite with eyes, quite innocent. Audrey Hepburn, but blue. Unreal. Too Round. Too Innocent to be forgotten. Two … Continue reading →

Shown casually, an aside, a friend once, of a friend “…her husband left her, she’s in California now, alone.” Black and white clear her stories sadness brought her tears to my eyes. She smiled too brightly in the shadow of … Continue reading →

How amazing! How frail we are our bodies so little, susceptible breakable yet we stretch for farthest star.

I reach to catch the grace remembered from the dreams embrace from the warmth of nestling my cheek on her neck and shoulder, that woman whose face I recognize as mine to catch the touch in a word to recreate … Continue reading →

Every hurt’s a hole a scoop life digs from the soul we never know the motive we can only pay the toll. A woman holds her hurting heart cradles it to her breast like the babe she bore, suckles, rocks, … Continue reading →

there is a door I open ending mornings walk to work beyond that door, a second and in both, I see my self So then two of me I see, my doubled strolls reflection mornings I ask the question “I … Continue reading →

We waited for the light and when the light came what darkness it revealed to our everlasting shame Are we so better off In our enlightened, benighted age? What sage, what vaunted wisdom proves our bright lit era is not, … Continue reading →

My child giggled a lot. And she lisped her own language, baby talk all us grownups claimed we couldn’t understand. But we all were changed, completely, forever, whenever we held her hand.

Newly widowed, she laughs, sits encased by windows, friends, their laughs, whispers, fill most of the hollow room as sun light shining fills most of the grey gloom. The widow at the window stares, doesn’t see. Disguised by slightly nasal … Continue reading →