Category Archives: Poems

Broken Christmas melodies come from an antique music box while Santa and his raindeer circle high above the little cabin in the woods. He, puzzling how his great girth might squeeze through that stove-pipe chimney on the roof. Outside, the … Continue reading →

How sweet my last long breath will be before the Angel comes for me. That deep, cool inhaling in my lungs. The pause. The holding on. Then a last warm exhaling in my chest. So to the letting go of … Continue reading →

If this is all there will be of heaven for me, this final souls memory of morning in our warm bed, my wife, slumbers beside me, the soft sloping curve down from her hip, across her side, sliding up to … Continue reading →

Today, it’s one month to go till my “ANO COMPLETO” or however they say it in San Juan, Puerto Rico. Yo tengo 74 anos en todo as a pin ball in, by then, my 75th year! (Three quarters of a … Continue reading →

Depending, I’m either lucky, fortunate or blessed, based on whether prayer counts. Does “Thy will be done” eliminate all explanations other than, “Have a blessed day!”? And what if WILL decides I die slowly, my body canabulizing itself in our … Continue reading →

I love how morning breaks through gauzey cotton curtains hung around my bedroom bay. here in my home by the sea. First, opaque, blind night shrouds us all. Then the ocean fog dissolves into diamond mist, sparkling in the suns … Continue reading →

Dancing in a dream, it’s so lovely! You holding me tightly! dancing in a dream with you! I love you true. I love to dance with you! Dancing in a dream with you! We’ve been together, through all weather! I … Continue reading →

If I go before you, my soul will be waiting just beyond the crashing surf, watching for you as long as it’s allowed by whoever’s skipper of the crowd, until you are beside me, once again. I will be riding … Continue reading →

I try to tithe each months check, bringing a percent of increase to the store house, used to feed the widows and orphans, to heal the sick, and house the poor wanderers, to feed the birds and… Wait a minute! … Continue reading →

Perhaps it was that the leaves had not yet turned russet as they had the first time. Perhaps it was that the sky was blue and cloudless, being slate gray the first time. Perhaps because the carolilian chime did not … Continue reading →