Enough With The Sonnets Already!
I had a slew of medical appointments in Manhattan today. This sonnet emerged while I was riding the train into the city. En Route to Some Doctor Appointments I have […]
Enough With The Sonnets Already! Read More »
I had a slew of medical appointments in Manhattan today. This sonnet emerged while I was riding the train into the city. En Route to Some Doctor Appointments I have […]
Enough With The Sonnets Already! Read More »
For over a year I attended a monthly open-mic literary night at the home of Scarlett Antonia. She held the event on the first Friday of the month in her
Sonnet for Scarlett’s Salon Read More »
Mowing There was never a sound beside the wood but one, And that was my long scythe whispering to the ground. What was it it whispered? I knew not well
Walking Uptown Minus Your Next Dose of Sinemet Your legs give out…and then Manhattan grows. The blocks get longer…stretch ahead unbroken… You limp and know that all the city knows
What? Another Sonnet Already? Read More »
Appointment w/ My Neurologist “Have you fallen yet?” she always asks, In her gorgeous scarf and white lab coat. “Been feeling dizzy? Spit caught in your throat? Frustrated that you can’t do
What? Another Parkinson’s Sonnet? Read More »
Evening The light passes from ridge to ridge, from flower to flower— the hepaticas, wide-spread under the light grow faint— the petals reach inward, the blue tips bend toward the
You lived a rich life; couldn’t ask for more – Then whoa! The fickle Fates cry out, “Hey, you! Just wait until ya see what we’ve in store – A
Another Parkinson’s Sonnet Read More »
The little river twittering in the twilight, The wan, wondering look of the pale sky, This is almost bliss. And everything shut up and gone to sleep, All the troubles
The Desolate Field Vast and gray, the sky is a simulacrum to all but him whose days are vast and gray, and— In the tall, dried grasses a goat stirs
August No wind, no bird. The river flames like brass. On either side, smitten as with a spell Of silence, brood the fields. In the deep grass, Edging the dusty