Sunday, January 19, 2014

Son of Sirenum Scopuli

Prose Poetry

A scarlet tanager sat, singing, on my sill yesterday. He was still only a second before he stole away. Perhaps he will settle someday and teach me to fly, so together we can soar and sway.

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

A Cloak

A prose poem.

The darkness was safe. Even the spotlight was safe; it made the darkness darker. But when the houselights went up, all I felt was naked.