
the earth turns her back
to the overbearing sun
for delicate art
turning away from the light
we may find a rare beauty

the earth turns her back
to the overbearing sun
for delicate art
turning away from the light
we may find a rare beauty
warning
warning
snowstorm coming
cars wheeling frantically
fast-moving clouds swallow the sun
grey out
blizzard
blizzard
windy snowdance
cars every which way
snowstorm turning horizontal
whiteout
buried
buried
brand new snowscape
cars abandoned white shapes
power lines buried in the snow
blackout

an old crooked cross
leans into the cold north wind
its paint coat long gone
–photo by me

mr. president
reach across
and you’ll find
it’s not hard
to be kind
we are all
intertwined
there’s enough
for us all
so I plead
don’t be blind
give yourself
peace of mind
for the sake
of mankind
do away
with your wall
me

–photo by me

One woman. Two men. Three fights.

the sparse green army
stands guarding the hill against
mighty blue forces
–photo by me

sometimes
little galaxies
fall from
the night sky
and swirl
to the ground
sometimes
powdered stardust
borne on
the cosmic wind
settles
on our world
sometimes
it’s a mass
invasion
of tiny aliens
hanging
from parachutes
sometimes
a blizzard of
asteroids
in your headlights
threatens
your spacecraft
sometimes

–photo by me

I know it is said
That roses are red
And violets are blue–
But neither is true.
The colors we see
Are only reflected;
Those that the flowers
So promptly rejected,
And those they absorb
Cannot be detected.
It is said, too, I know
That our true colors show
And people see through–
But neither is true.