Keep It To Yourself

Knuckles 

turn white holding

onto the steering wheel.

We only talk if it's about

the road.

The Year Fall Came Before Summer

Gray hat

of fog settles

into the pines. The day

narrows. I still smell the footsteps

of rain.

Shortages

Stories.

Have disappeared.

Empty shelves without books.

Words written in the dust. Have been

erased.

Day by Day

 

living

in disrepair

the time that's slipped away

more valuable than anything

I've kept 

"Go Forth and Multiply"

Season

of the potholes—

               the darkness deepens them.

If you miss one, the other will

shake you.

January Forecast

Bearing 

the weight of ice

and yet another snow,

the trees bend and snap with nowhere

to go.

                      From The New Book of Genesis:

                                Let The Chaos Begin

Yard signs

a week after

the election--you know

who won by the names of those still

standing.