The random bird in flight

The random bird in flight
In the soft morning light
When the owl says goodnight
The day full of promise

Corners that should be turned
Utopias of yearn
Too many things to learn
Comma after commas

Call it a common thread

Call it a common thread
Or a DNA trace
A same disposition
Or wrinkle in a face

Or twinkle in an eye
The long stride or quick pace
We are a family
Within the human race

Just some derivative

Just some derivative
A mere deviation
Seed from a fruit or a
Grafting propagation

Add a new box to the
Periodic table
Find the chicken or egg
Disprove some false fable

All this talk of lonely

All this talk of lonely
Yet I am not only
No matter how homely
My thoughts look in a dress

Stars looking for a strand
Great oceans bound by land
The fingers find their hand
Universal caress

Seeking higher beauty

Seeking higher beauty
In the muddy mundane
A simple white daisy
In a vast field of grain

Searching inner landscapes
Only finding scorched earth
Sowing foreign seeds in
The genetics of birth

There is no rush of words

There is no rush of words
Such incomplete phrasings
And scattered, detached thoughts
Undigested grazings

Empty periscopes or
Archaeology dig
Perhaps it's time to plant
When there's no sign of sprig

What is left to be said

What is left to be said
In no time, I'll be dead
Here is the Life I led
Expressed in simple verse

I love and love returned
Steady as the World turned
Achieved dreams yet still yearned
Days were without rehearse

A destination lost

A destination lost
On this Final Friday
The impromptu surprise
An evening getaway

We were moved by still lifes
What the artist had shown
Like visiting a tree
In awe of how it's grown

There is no rush of words

There is no rush of words

Such incomplete phrasings

And scattered detached thoughts

Undigested grazings

Empty periscopes or

Archeology dig

Perhaps it's time to plant

When there's no sign of sprig

Allowing exceptions

Allowing exception
Can make the difference
Regardless if it's not
The common preference

Little variations
Makes the world different
And possibilities
Endless and infinite
 

Not mathematical

Not mathematical
Not found in calculus
Or beads on a wire that
Slide on an abacus

There's no equality
Or fabulous balance
No math to speak of in
Affection and talons

Nothing left to be said

Nothing left to be said
The well of words gone dry
Autumn trees, winter fields
Or the moonless night sky

Remnants of my own voice
A chorus, a refrain
Grow paler each echo
Across the same terrain

Born in Marietta

Born in Marietta
Along the Ohio
Moved to White Plains outside
New York City's metro

Then to West Virginia
And Toledo's Northwest
NYC called again
Then Ohio to nest

Another place and time

Another place and time
Completely uprooted
Yet the life we lived there
Cannot be disputed

They say it's another
Chapter or even book
But still from time to time
We go back for a look

Our ancient history

Our ancient history
Written on passing winds
Thoughts have evaporated
Once filling up our brims

The fury and fever
Are now read like cold facts
Both sides surrendering
Under self-imposed pacts