The Walnut

The Walnut  The walnut’s face is perfect. The lines of the two halves, Each the same sacred form of creation, but Once the shell browns and dries, Is the fruit too dry for the heart? Does each half weather the same? What binds but a thin membrane For chipping on the Eve? Can the heart... Continue Reading →

The Poet Dreamer

 The Poet Dreamer Our lives are nights bereft of cogent dreams, Sleep of light thought of lines of poems Forgotten upon rising. We are poets searching for truth in all dimensions Much less our own lives, Our greatest dream and illusion.   The mind plays tricks as symbols contest each other In active play as... Continue Reading →

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