Category Archives: Poems

Noun: man Proper Noun: Dad Verb: to be Number: third person, Singular Tense: was Case: Closed

Mothers crystal vase, secure on the shelf, shimmering in the sun light shinning through the window, the etchings, diamond cut: roses, monarch butterflies, elves, safely frozen in the glass, so fine, so crystaline. A ferocious barbarian would cry before he … Continue reading →

When I awoke from a day break dream of a crystal vase and cups, blue glazed, then read that image on the fiftith page… When I turned page one hundred four and a long dead mosquito floated to the floor … Continue reading →

That night I prayed for a nod from God in the darkened church by the school yard, I was a child. When I saw shadows shift and the dark walls shake as the bright light flashed and the angels sang, … Continue reading →

Leaving Father in his hospital bed, catching MetroNorth, home bound, the Hudson flowing on behind me, the tranquil dusk, sunset. An old man sitting on a track-side bench, in an eye-blink, waved, was gone. The river, flowing on behind me, … Continue reading →

I enjoy to feel the dampness of a summers rainy day, floor sticky wet beneath bare feet. I enjoy to feel humidity disapating in the sun, feel that soft cooling breeze when the heat wave’s done. So I want no … Continue reading →

Pretty piroetting girl, what ballet do you hear while you’re dancing on the sand? What minuet is melody in your mind? And if, for one brief measure, I might sense your secret song, would I join you in your whirlling … Continue reading →

Who is that they’re calling Grandpa? That’s not ME they’re calling Grandpa! I’m to young to be a Grandpa! I lift weights! I’m not a Grandpa! I’m not retired. I’m not decrepit. I look too good to be a Grandpa! … Continue reading →

When my wifes daughter birthed her first, I was witness, but felt no blood stir in my heart, as others felt. Yet all it took was that first night the bundle stayed with us for me to look upon the … Continue reading →

I was just a witness there, but I glide from the birthing room with magic on my face, brush miracle like gold dust from my hair. What it must be to work in Gynocology, to witness wonder in each new … Continue reading →