A lil black phone with my poems in

  No slouching She bumps along the edge of the bed as if the mattress were a familiar shoreline. What name fits this fierce ...

  Care is a chord   First, take a breath as you enter, survey the scene, scan for signs of progress. Speak slowly; let her smile make you ...

  Pond's Twelve: A Melodrama The stroke team promised me a plan today, after Mum’s MRI, and I braced for something clinical, instead, ...

  Chestnut in bloom, hope blossoms at Kent and Canterbury Chestnut in bloom, a lantern for the goldfinch, a quiet roof for its small brig...

Holding Pattern I’m eating a Jamaican vegetable patty.   It tastes normal,   and that feels wrong,   because my world is upside ...

Orpheus' Last Look How could you not have trust me?   The counter melody of your song,   douward uncertainty, dogged your heels. You tu...

Money isn't everything. But a little helps, for pesky necessities, food, rent and heating.

  Ghosting I would have had this end differently; a reconciliation or  at least a tumultuous explosion that lit up  the sky rather than the ...