The Sky About to Cry

It is not quite full yet.

The yellow jacket nest is still.

The trees are awake to a grey brightness;

The still clouds are grey filled.

The last shower nests

On the pavement floor, but

The sun has not toweled it up in arms.

I am watching the moisture, which

tilting down to my feet asks me

to drink of fluids flowing

from another’s mouth.

Metaphorical Writing 4/27/2013


Spring fever has finally melted the heart of this year’s snow, but the buds are still hesitant and shy, while my spring cleaning is officially underway.  Its time for a long drive with my car poking its head up and … Continue reading

Metaphor for 4/17/2013


We come here almost faceless like walking into a club where you know few of the members and become initiated into a world where the dance keeps changing, and we lean in one direction or another often bent by a … Continue reading