Grand Canyon

The hoarse, unworthy prayer
echoes in the empty canyons
cut by the persistent rivers.


When the Evening Comes (Rondine)

Poem-a-Day Challenge #26: Evening Poem

When the evening comes and the light fades,
the heart’s curtains are drawn; its candle dims.
A heavy cloak draws around wounded limbs;
dew beads on the ground, watering the shades
that emerge like weeds that come out to play
when the evening comes.

No dressing or salve applied in the light
of day to ward from fever’s red-flushed heat
means a festering aching will deplete
the health and clarity of solar flight
when the evening comes.



What is a Rondine?

To Lefty (Ottava Rima)

Poem-a-Day Challenge #11: Dedication Poem

Living in a chilly Cleveland hotel––
With its quiet echoes of memories––
Has to be its own special kind of hell:
Singing the blues all night can’t set you free.
The old grays’ stories of kindness retell
Their own sad, dusty, difficult stories.
The wind as cold as Pancho makes you face
The one thing you need most: forgiving grace.



What is an Ottava Rima?

Bright (Dickson Nocturne)

The well-worn saying goes,
Something’s as white as snow.
But snow is bright.
The glare off it can blind.
So when it comes to mind,
Forgiv’n our crimson crimes—
But snow is bright.
It radiates, reflects—
Its glory indirect—
Light, too, is white.
It welcomes, not rejects.
But snow is bright.