Your Mirage, My Mirage If we could raise the dead then we'd bring back our fathers. And this time, this time, we'd be magic enough to keep them clean and sober.
Generations The trees long for the days when they were seeds. The seeds hurry again and again to become trees.
Crisis of Faith Of course, the photos and videos of Sasquatch need to be blurry and distant. Nobody wants to be convinced that their monster is only myth. Nobody wants their miracle to only be metaphor.
Prognosis We're all born with the endless need to be cradled. There's no cure. It's always fatal.
Was once told me that no one knows when to clap
for my 'short' poems. Clapping loudly for these beauties.
That first one just slayed me. So succinct but HUGE impact.