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Friday, November 22, 2013


Orange Caught My Eye

Each morning.
6:39 a.m.
Balmy and dim.
A man
driving a white pickup truck, with a knock or two on the side
fender, quietly curves into his neighbor’s driveway. First a
gray pointed beard, worn blue jeans, and a gentle hand
retrieves the plastic covered daily news hewn on dewy lawn.
He tenderly delivers kindness to the front door of someone,
(Who still reads black words printed on newspaper)
and moves along.

Wednesday, November 6, 2013



Exhibited on the console TV
(vulnerable 3, 6, and 10)
An erect green vase shows
Dozens of Freedom red roses--
Penance of darkness
Dull attar at the wood alter  
Feral stems strike
Fist size buds--
Polaroid picture blossom in my head
a timeline to forgiveness.

In a recycled plastic water bottle
cut from a garden bush, she
places a single red cross rose bud
purposefully on a solitary night stand--
Ethereal perfume
Whimsical stem
Hair shirt thorns
Resurrection of an eternal sign--
A rose is a rose without mercy
nailed within my altered home.