GRIEF POEM

My mother
is gone

like beautiful swan
she loved me

in her way
but the winds

sway in my belief
for her life.

YARN

Erasmus told a yarn
behind his barn

about his colt
in the mud

that the stud
was hurt

in the dirt
was taken to the hospice

during Christmas
but was rescued by Jesus.

WE SINK

We sink
into Sixties movies

from Italy
because we want to think

of something beyond
beach red

into phantasms sanguinity
of life's reality instead.

ESCORTING

Escorting the violets

to plant in the ground

no one but a bird

on an Elm branch

is heard with regrets

to make a sound

as a poet on the sunny wind

will reveal his secret word.

FROZEN IN TIME

Frozen in time
of resolution

percolating as green tea
you asked for a solution

in a steaming hour
of questioning

the power
of poetry's chimes.

UNDER A WINDOW

Under a window

of faltering spiders

wondering why you

yourself feel as an outsider

in a polarization

of shadows

of astonished wishes

of meditation.

WANTING

Wanting a safe space
in a field of butterflies

you asked for love
waking up to be wise

masked by secrets
of transparent regrets

hidden by a shield
of purple violets.