Poem Category: Miscellaneous

the hours pass–
the fire side spits–
a winter night–

drying winds
in a rib-cage
left by the herd

trellis grapevine
its green… somehow hope
in her sick room

behind the restaurant
the bin cats…
an old fight

school park
the increasing pitch
in squeals and swings

thunder
clouds rushing
the summer showers

black-edged winter sky
no sound to the dog
slinking to shelter

lunchtime break…
you let yourself in
to straighten our fight and mess

night of winds
as far as sleep goes
nearly lifting the tin roof

the moon peering in
lifts the well water
to curve itself