Selected Works
Armistice at Dawn
Banished from your Kingdom
I stand steadfast, across
the mote that divides us.
With white flag in hand, I call out
to the battlements and buttressed walls
your veiled allies help you build.
​
Upon your throne you amass
armies in the darkness; gathering
poisoned arrows and half -truths.
Yet I stand resolute, waiting
for the gate to drop; knowing you'll emerge
in morning light to parlay a truce.
​
Mounted upon alabaster steed
your valiant protector clutches the locked box
that holds your heart for eternity.
September Mourning
Summer fades unwillingly into death,
wrapped in the ambiance
of whirring locusts hidden
beneath boughs of withering leaves.
​
Dry grass and dead limbs
crunch under foot like so many
brittle bones once fertile,
now burnt and wasted.
​
In the last days of dragonfly dances
the setting sun sinks low
retreating to autumnal latitudes,
no longer able to hold back the advancing night.
​
Do not rejoice the coming harvest moon!
​
Lament the reptilian soundtrack,
now silenced, that once accompanied
fireflies decorating fen and bog
like fairy lanterns dancing in the dark.
​
Languish in the lost resplendence of
sunlight filtering through canopies,
falling upon drew laden blossoms
and glittered gossamers.
​
Relinquish night swimming in
primal nakedness,
and lie torpid, enshrouded against
the inevitable wintertide.
​