Absalom

Faulkner is a heavy weight of old grievancesunresolved, the fester of yearsburning an indignant holein a pocket full of rusty nailsthe bitter smell left upon thefingers that reach insidea taste like blood on the tongue It’s my Mother’s words about the familyhow her Daddy was the twin born lastseparated by mere momentsfrom the seat ofContinue reading “Absalom”

Fog

The night fogdampens soundweighs it downso it can’t riseto tap at thewindow pane orwhisper shoutin my ear The night fogturns normal nineinto mysterious midnightsecretsbreathing onthe glass toexpose ghostwriting leftbehind byunseen fingersletters lingeringin the dustfor time to find The night foghides darknessand throws backlight, a shockof gloss throughthe frosted mistthat fightsthe odds topoint the wayforward JustContinue reading “Fog”

September

Cleopatra rolled up in a rugsmuggled in to see Caesarworming her way into infamyEvery day the light is changingSlyly summer transformslittle by little into autumnsuch small moveswe hardly even notice the fall I realize it’s not quite the right time of year for this poem, but my copy-paste-repeat diligence from my Medium archive knows noContinue reading “September”