A Disciplined Arrow
“the forces of nature move with them” // Fall as a season of purposeful movement, the transition between the nervous, chaotic energy of summer and the frozen stasis of winter.
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Last Asleep, First Awake
Why have I made
These barriers inside myself?
And as if in answer:The coin, I think,
Spins evenly, though
One side always hides itself -
Innocent Blood
The quiet opens for me / like a wardrobe
A recent poem posted on BlueSky. My own little religion of solitude.
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The Forethought
The neglected garage, the bitter oracle. … Reposting a poem published in the Winter 2023 edition of the Schuylkill Valley Journal.