, , ,

You are Black
thick, nothing.

In you I cannot
see, it was your favorite weapon.

Would be invaders
Bring their own baggage
becoming undone.

Hand over hand,
down by touch on
Ladders or stairs
I blunder,
Hearing your laugher
As I fell….

I noticed though,
that I’ve always came back,
my every death
A creation,
Carrying ever smaller bags.

Perhaps I”ll know you yet….


I currently have an e-book of poetry being sold for under a dollar for 99 cents, “Conflicts”.

Sales go to the support of my poetry and limited profit liability company, Stone Temple Micro-Finance and Research, L3C.