There is one cloud
which like a button
or a boutonnière sits
simply against the pale
blue sky of morning
announcing I am here
almost like the last
sugar cube at a
lady’s morning tea party
Category: Poetry
Hat
Finally at long last
I can definitely announce
that for the very
first time in a
very long time that
my journey to Denver
was not to discover
someone new upon whom
to hang my hat
but rather to raise
my chin square my
shoulders and finally learn
how to wear the
hat no one wants
Dawn
This is by far
my favorite time of
all this early morning
when strangers lovers friends
and the city itself
awaken to each other
to coffees and me
it’s a time of
eggs and of percolators
of showers clean clothes
of yawns and stretches
and for me words
it’s the time when
the low east sun
dabs the cold cheeks
of skyscrapers with rouge
making them simply bloom
like long tall daffodils
and when almost everyone
including the mountains sky
says their good mornings
MondayMorning
The pavement is wet
and puddled like the
faces of freshly scolded
children as cars speed
their damp tails wagging
behind as they go
The skies open and
rain pours down like
early AM shoppers on
black Friday as people
dodge and dash trying
though hopelessly to remain
dry such is Monday
Voices
Voices are the one
thing that I miss
much like the rustling
of fall leaves when
snow begins to swirl
or the sound of
absent summer swimmers when
Autumn’s chilly winds blow
But the voice I
miss most is mine
when I stop listening
to my own advice
