Memories of you, of us, obscured and steeped in a blur of dusty fog and fuzzy cobwebs. Shadows of a distant past — sometimes half-forgotten — sometimes half-remembered but always just out of reach like missing pieces of a dream that likely belonged to someone else.    

On the Rocks

Today at the dVerse Poets pub it's Sestina time! This complex form contains six stanzas, each with six lines and concludes with a three line envoi. The pattern of the form is as follows: 1. A,B,C,D,E,F 2. F,A,E,B,D,C 3. C,F,D,A,B,E 4. E,C,B,F,A,D 5. D,E,A,C,F,B 6. B,D,F, E,C,A 7. BE, DC, FA (The envoi of three [...]

In Nubibus

  I sense them trying to form. the sudden, mad syllabic rush as if each thought is battling to be voiced in unison. A thunderous blast of wordlessness everything and nothing — an aborted cacophony — utterances never to be heard, over a blur of muted tears.      

Like I Do

I almost called you today when a song came on the radio that reminded me of the "us" in my mind's eye; the us that lives exclusively and forever in my heart then I remembered (how could I forget?) you don't care like I do and that you don't think of me "that way" and [...]