This August Air
Personal Note: I originally wrote this after the death of my great grandfather in August of 2014. In 2020, the August air can represent so much more. Let me know…
Don’t Fix Your Shoes
A younger me, how naïve,And long since dead and gone,Stepped in to fill some worn out shoes,With a hope to make them new. For a while, by inch and mileI…
Narcissist
We see the world through clouded glass, a prescription not prescribed. Glass that often shows you not what's really on the other side. Instead you see your own two eyes,…
Glass on the Floor
Head on the concrete like glass on the floor. Shattered pieces show a reflection from each. Every blood drop shed on the newly jagged edges, shows a different image of that glass…
Missouri
Snow's falling at home, while I ride waves of foam. Further and further I swim, but the waves bring me back again, Pushing me away from the sea, back to…
A Single Spark
Personal Note: This poem was written after a fire that quickly spread across our family farm in January of 2014. It burned several hundred acres of grassland in a matter…