2024

Gray skies

like November

in an election year,

we vote on the promises of

more lies.

Deep-Fried And Sugar-Coated

So this

    is donut day.

      What once felt fulfilling

    leaves me empty inside, my eyes

glazed shut.

THE PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN

Censors

suppressing our

journalists are akin

to libraries having their books

removed.

 

Limestone Hill Trail

Hiking 

to the summit,

I find a bench and let

the oak tree's shadow reshape my

journey.

Symptoms

Ocean 

waves to and fro...

Like seashells I only 

hear the sloshes of this Covid

earache. 

The Memory Unit

Today

she hears Ol' Blue

Eyes. Let her go on then

dancing with her invisible

partner.

What I Remember

Echoes

extend the lives

of footsteps. Between beats

of rain and gunfire, someone plays

music.