In a private lament

In a private lament

Snagged on a twilight star

Buried in passing clouds

The heart that felt too far

Feet in Antarctica 

And head in the Arctic

Soul on the equator 

Compassion cathartic 

In the ordinary

In the ordinary 

The love of the simple

The threads in a button

Landscapes with a dimple

The beauty of hand made

The hope of a mere glance

Happy thoughts we carry

The success side of chance

Childhoods are up for sale

Childhoods are up for sale

In these aisles of antiques

Cookie jars, dishes, Life

Magazines and Newsweeks

Dolls staring like orphans

In strange abandonment

Security cameras’

Parental management

The melancholy's blooms

The melancholy’s blooms

Have the scent of bedsheets 

The oversized sweaters

Of lambswool and soft bleats

The arguments with self

That aren’t unanimous 

These letters to the World

Patterns in randomness 

Light flashes can’t be seen

Light flashes can’t be seen

Explosions can’t be heard

New movies are streaming

And summer sports have blurred 

Market roller coasters

Insiders have no fear

Sailors wanting to jump

Because the end’s not near

Everyone a teacher

Everyone a teacher

The Overwhelm of learn

The hands full and empty

Much held yet more to yearn

Truth not distant mountains

White daisies in the yard

A seat at the table

In our one act play starred

Time is visible here

Time is visible here

It both grows and ages

Off of the canvas it

Is still turning pages

Day after day passing

Tangents merely touching

But concentric rings are

Expanding and muching