Stuyvesant Square

I We walked around Stuyvesant Square in the shadows of the Seventeenth Century to a room with a wound that we watched become worse, consuming its host, bloody, raw, and hopeless. We asked a man we met there about instruments for burning things that grow and die and live again inside of us. We lookedContinue reading “Stuyvesant Square”

Sometimes A Candle

  Sometimes a candle Can be a torch I’ll carry this one through the storm Sometimes a candle Is the only thing left When nothing else can keep me warm Sometimes a candle Lights the way forward On an ever-darkening path Sometimes a candle Lights the face of a lover With a softness that nothingContinue reading “Sometimes A Candle”

Seventy Seven Words

There are no comfortable positions in the bed they used to share.  He flips at regular intervals, both the hamburger and the spatula.  With the morning slouching toward him, he stares dimly at the spot on the wall where he knows the calendar hangs.  There is not enough light in the sky yet to seeContinue reading “Seventy Seven Words”