Oddments

In search of story


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Disconnections: November 3.18

 

My front yard may be small

but in gold it’s very big

ruddy, blushing yellows

on every branch and twig.

I raised my trusty camera

to capture golden riot

but was dissuaded from my focus

by the egotist too nigh it.

I had to zoom behind

to my neighbor’s tree instead

because nothing photobombs

like the high and mighty red.

 


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Disconnections: October 29.18

 

When brutalities of day

give way

to candlelight of moon

do we find ease

and breathe

stillness?

Or do we ask

is it mere mask

for predator

conspirator

and illness?

 

 

Those of us who try to write struggle to find words for the anguish. Maybe there are none.