Quiddity

By the trellised entry to the lake of sleep, I patter down shallow steps of slate, mists about my feet. The closer to its shore, the more slowly I go. At last, on the landing, the waters lap as I stop in doubt. The way back is onerous. I am in thrall to the pull of the dream sea.

Despair

Tonight, again, she called me from the lockup. Afraid of the phone police and the Tylenol nurse and the mumbling man who speaks through the ceiling. And I want to help, without humouring her or being false, for these things are sensed. But I fear to look into that laughing mirror.

Hidden in Childhood- A poetry anthology compiled, edited , and published by Gabriela Marie Milton of Short Prose Fiction

Hello all… I am very proud indeed to be one of the contributors to this beautiful book that’s due for release in late January! Thank you, Gabriela, for your gracious acceptance. I look forward to reading it!

Going away

She is disappearing,
your Mom,
said the Dad to his son.

And all of your anger with her-
arisen out of fear, sadness, and helplessness,
is not wrong, though it hurts.

She is consumed with another realm,
and you speak only to a placeholder
who grows more listless with time.