Snow arrived morning of


leaving birds no place to


A lesson in this is

don’t wake to discover

you could be out in the cold

so keep that in mind

when you are warm in

your home.


and you love me

On the bargaining table

amongst faith, hope

unconditional trust

a bare spot for errors

collects dust.

Uncertainty waits

key to heart fits, or not

printed words on paper

written by heart, mind

prove both know how to adjust

to demands of future plans

or, more precisely, give a damn.

Immense moments

filter out one by one

until at last focused like a lens

ready to capture still light

resting on a tulip in plain sight.


you love me.

Can you believe it!

can you believe it

Can you believe it!

it snowed in Colorado

the colorful state

until nature awakens

with a free spirit.

Nature knows its worth

is in stillness.

expect 6-8 inches by Monday afternooon

Cat from


Cat from

from the wrong side

of the tracks

I slipped into your heart

you purred

sharpened my claws

spoke of love.

I recall those first words

your smile

I knew where to lay

my troubles down.

You brushed me

until I shined

made wishes on stars

not demands.

I was from the wrong side

of the tracks

but you found a treasure

wouldn’t let me go back.

This night

I give thanks for

shelter from storms

love you gave

so freely.

I know someday

we’ll meet once more

stroll down memory lane

catch up on us

if I get across the tracks


I’ll be your cat.



Was a beautiful summer morn

when I became

transfixed by beauty

simply overcome.

She spoke to my heart

between breaths I took

offered appreciation that I paused


A glorious moment


placed in front of eyes


to not forsake

nor disturb even

when awake.

She played

she played

She played

with softness while learning

to feel each key

the ones that opened, closed

her heart

as smiles appeared

knowing she had made them

her own in some way

and I listen with delight

even on nights when silence

creates a longing to hear

just once more

her play.

Groping in the dark

groping in the dark

Spontaneous words leap out

in half-ass rhymes

direct from tin can brain

slightly rusted from torment

groping in the dark

and picking a proper antidote

only leads to more half-ass rhymes.

Why does a pen filled with ink

feel claustrophobia

when it is forced to write

about life?

Come a day

come a day

Come a day these old bones

shall be crushed into powder

be spread across mountains & plains

a pinch in the sea

so my spirit lives beyond

all those hopes & dreams

lost along the way.

Said the Robin


Said the Robin
to Bluebird…
I got your back
we’re in this together
let’s enjoy the seeds
of life
sing our creed

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