Monday, May 17, 2010

You Think You Saw But Did Not See

A small boy and a smaller dog
sitting on a curb, in the late afternoon.

A Rockwell painting; alive.
An image to conjure thoughts of our glorious age-
stirring pride
and warming hearts.

But the dog is tired and thin
and the boy's smudged face echos the pups hunger.

I suppose they're waiting for a parent
or a sibling who's running late,

but more likely
he and the dog will sit,
their shadows will draw longer
and the sun will fade to orange, then pink.

Thursday, May 6, 2010


Some things don't stay in your closet-

hitching rides on old baseball caps
and long, moth eaten winter coats.

Those bones were thought to have turned to dust
long ago
swept away by broom or
that they had floated away,
through old walls, down dark stairways
and into a fiery furnace

In truth, many do;
disappearing into the sea of time,
taken away grain by grain
with each mornings tide

most remains,
the ones most foul and
most telling-
the ones shoved furthest away:
creep about in the shadows
waiting silently
and steadily;
and hungrily,

So when you sit at the head of the family table
you won't wonder why everyone is staring;
you'll feel the skeleton fingers running though your hair-

for no closet is deep enough.