space station

Space: A poem

dear you i have escaped the gravity of our world the thrusters are no longer firing i depend on the word of other men who linger in dark rooms twirling pencils atop arcane calculations watching my ship ascend to the stars   there is no seattle in space vacant skies
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kiwi_courtesy-copy

Kiwi’s big adventure: A poem

     I am Kiwi, and I love the way I roll.  You think I’m a silent runner and droll. Yeah, the box robot made for tater tots. Your tiny food delivery.     But I am Kiwi! The corgis have nothing on me. I stop you in your tracks, and you
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House

At home: A poem

The familiar comfort lingers, amid the throng of foreign faces, the flood of strangeness. So during lonely days, I bring old intimacies in a haze. Oh, I can sense Mom’s supple hand, smell the citrus of the Camry, harken the hum of the city, the tickled taste of cherries or
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