In a world of
Pronouns where labels define
What we are rather
Than who we are
Is it any surprise
That when we insist
Me we lose we
Category: Poetry
FittingRoom
Most all okay most
Most of us behave
Like we’re in the
Fitting room of life
Trying on tossing off
Twirling and imagining wondering
If this makes me
Look good desirable better
A catch to catch
Some buy themselves armor
Meant to dissuade protect
Make it nearly impossible
I’m not a nudist
But there’s something to
Be said about nakedness
You
But what is a
Grain of sand it’s
A pearl an irritation
A moment a beach
And an ocean it’s
Underfoot swept away overwhelmed
It disappears and reappears
But what is a
Grain of sand you
HeavensHarp
We get so mired
By life’s little details
That we so often
Miss the grand triumphs
That sounds unlikely right
When we look at
Life thread by thread
We miss the pattern
That our lives weave
We forget that we’re
But one strand one
String on this harp
In the heavens playing
A song that the
Universe can always hear
Stride
There is something
To be said about
Hitting your stride so
Much of early life
Is spent bucking and
Trying to throw off
Then trotting and cantering
Stalling thinking and stopping
And finally running and
Breaking into that long
Beautiful gallop when you’re
At one with wind
