Passing

Denim shorts clinging, pony tail swinging, firm thighed stride of youth and purpose, pert breasted optimism, new, unbroken, passing me by leaving the scent of memory, lost opportunity, the one that got away, denim shorts clinging, pony tail swinging.




Parkstreet

Sing To Your Babies, Sing

Sing to your babies, sing
Of the times to come.
So when the times come,
Your babies will smile,
And sing.




Parkstreet

Burn Your Books

Burn your books
For fuel,
When you are cold.


Burn
Your paintings,
Burn
Your antiques,
Burn
Anything that will burn,
To give you heat,
And light,
For another day.





Parkstreet

When She Turns

When she turns,
He is there.
She wishes
He weren’t. 

He sees her as she wishes she could see herself.

No one
Can live
With that.

When she turns,
He is gone.






Parkstreet