Baseball

I was writing over the weekend, and I found myself not writing, but rather listening to the indie band Modern Baseball. In the background, the television was carrying the LA Dodgers game and the feeling of springtime washed over me. It felt nice. I did eventually write. I posted a couple of new poems. Let me know what you think. Check back soon for updates. April will be a big month.

Cumming's Christmas

Hope you all had a great holiday. Here is a poem for you.

Cumming’s Christmas (After E.E. Cummings)

snow(lights hush as

a world whispers)

trees hold their

breath, stars curl

like quiet flames in

the velvet-now

 

(Around the softest

corners of tonight

dreams unwrap

themselves

into laughter)

 

windows glow small

miracles

of orange & gold,

the hum of fires

dances—(hearts sing

through frost-kissed

glass)

 

listen: the

silence (a song

older than Time)

falls gentle

as a child’s

hand reaching toward

the first morning.