The angered child, the poorly chosen spouse, the bitter sweetness of pride’s lies believed, the accumulation of a thousand small glances, letters not finished. The tongue not bitten, the tongue too often bit. In perfect hindsight, clearer each day, regret’s fibers twist to strands. Strands braid into ropes. Ropes knot. I have come to your…
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This is a loose collection of my poems. My first writing was poetry, but I was never able to understand how to write poetry or why one worked and another did not. But I thought in poems, in short dense bursts and could not imagine writing stories or novels. Somewhere in my 30s that changed. But I still write a poem when a situation demands, though I still make no claim to actually being a poet. It has been a very long time since I last tried to get a poem published. I am just too lazy to keep track of submissions. But I offer them here on my turf where you have been seeking my writing or something about me. I hope you enjoy and find something of worth to you. Most of the poems will have a little note at the bottom, so make sure you scroll down.