thanksgiving on the prairie

gold-bleached grasses bend
in the wind while ice frosts
the slender fingers of every
black-barked tree

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in between the lines

emily, i am tired —
emily, what shall i write?

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how to be a poet

be not prideful through your given gift of words —
each one who listens must tell what he has heard

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Berliner Mauer, 2017

today at checkpoint charlie
mcdonald’s spies from
the american side
at the kfc across the road

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when gold beams bend

when gold beams bend against the green-glowing grass — that
is my favorite time of light

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protagonista aggrivista

once a young lady quite flustered
with a face pale and creamy as custard …

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