Hammer to anvil 
hit it hard 
to forge steel 
into a shape 
delicate taps tend 
to only sharpen 
that which has 
been heated and 
then struck repeatedly 
this is how 
one turns rock
into a weapon 
child into adult 
innocence into age 

With sugar 
and cream
the bean
it seems 
goes down 
much easier 
and pleasier 
making crazier 
my mood
this fuel 
morning’s tool
does school 
my cool

Yesterday I witch
or maybe wizard
pulled things from 
cupboard and fridge 
set to cook
concoct and conjure 
a tad this
a pinch that
chop chop chop
toss and stir 
aromatics and herbs 
floating high above 
swirling like fairies 
and Pandora’s muses
until at last
ready to serve 
to creature and 
compadre and companion 
a beguiling feast
sure to soothe 
the savage beast 

The top half 
has gone dark 
after a blaze
of heated bright 
like fireworks exploded 
in nights sky
now the bottom 
half remains lit
in an old
and tired yellow 
I think I’m
going to leave 
it this way 
my Christmas tree 
looking a little 
like a town 
nestled under nightfall 

There are days 
such as this 
when words evade
and don’t express
just quiet thoughts 
going no where 
long road trips 
down straight highways 
empty of cars