Lion headed autumn prizesroaring outside the doordaring to show fresh faces in Maycarefully preened manessparkling the early summer dewdaring the sun to bequite as brilliant in hisyellow raptures Once upon a timemy Grandmother planteda host of these rampant kingson a far forgotten side of the housean offering to the neighborsa place of pleasant pilgrimagefor usContinue reading “Chrysanthemum”


A heart once pliable and softwith the bloom of youth stillwafting sweetness into an open mindnow hard as flint, in self absorbed,avoiding mirrors except to smash themand revel in the shardscrushed sharply under theboot of controlthe picture in the atticwears a knowing smirkdeaf to any echo but its ownneck deep in its ownenveloping paper whiteContinue reading “Narcissus”


Fairie tricks ring the dead men’s bellsheartbeat secrets no tongue can tella thimble-full to tame the blooda double dose brings sleeping floodsto tame his madness, deaf with painimpassioned, driven, yellow-faintthe genius Dutchman’s pallet tellswhere myth meets rumor, logic failsbowing woodland hiding placeproud pink trumpets make your face There’s a VanGogh reference in this poem .Continue reading “Foxglove”

Bee Balm

at a bed and breakfast in the Catskills,lost somewhere between 1985and a lump of sorrow in the throat,there it was on the plate:little edible pink petals,next to the fresh scrambled eggs: local cluckers and garden bountyserved by a man whodrifted through timeand opened his houseto the likes of us: two idiotswho later came back withaContinue reading “Bee Balm”


I can still hear her voicetalking about them, bloominglike a bright gentle flowerfrom the bushes along the greens and fairwayssweet and slow as asouthern afternoon, spiced uplike the wine-soaked pork chopsand etouffet she loved to make I can still feel her hands,floral with lotion and softas butterfly’s wings, plusalmost as fragile,navigating the click ofknitting needlesContinue reading “Azalea”


the field is a constellation of colora vast universe dotted with petal’d starswhere harvesters buzz like beesarmed with scissorsfor take-home delightsthat don’t lastthe crystal autumn sky watcheswithout emotionthrowing down rays of dustto nourish the future,who buds in quiet industryin spite of the invading hoards This poem is about the field of zinnias at a pumpkinContinue reading “Zinnia”


buttoned up with meaning,like clockwork in the skythroughout the year,a garland of desire likea field of bristling sunsgravely marching to dotheir business with thegreat beyond, equal to bothsides of life’s coin: weddings and funeralsjoy and loss take it or leave it,stuff your pockets full of gold I can’t think of marigolds without thinking about thatContinue reading “Marigold”