Monday, January 26, 2015


...could be applied to a Nor'easter, eschatology, or anything we obsess over:


Expectation run amok,
Panic all around
As everybody tries to figure out

Good or bad? What kind of luck?
How much on the ground?
But what is the excitement all about?

We’ve been in this place before
(Every year, it seems)
And yet our minds convince us it’s all new.

Forgetting what is in store
Like vague, fuzzy dreams
Obscuring all that we know to be true.

It is vital to prepare
For what comes ahead
And guarantee that we have all our tools

But try not to even care,
Working out a sum,
Or wond’ring where or when: you’ll look like fools

Sunday, January 25, 2015


I wrote this one a few months back:

Ode to fleeting beauty

Your nights are brisk, dear Fall,
Your sunsets light the sky afire.
You, mirroring, perhaps, the shades of trees

Which I now watch with awe:
This yearly show where you inspire
Bright leaves ablaze, then floating on the breze.

And yet, you tease my heart
Your gorgeous brilliance doomed to fade
And how can I embrace your waning strength?

Yet I’m wrong from the start
No matter how briefly you stayed.
Its depth of love that matters, not the length.

Friday, January 23, 2015

A snowfall

Floating softly to the ground as drifting piles grow.
Last fall there were leaves I watched; now, it's falling snow.
The trees who stripped immodestly to show us every sight,
Have branches that are clothed again (if just for now) in white.

Dressed for a baptism perchance, and with it, brand new life 
Or, my Romantic inner self suggests a wedded wife.
Whatever new beginnings come from wardrobes crystalline
Enjoy the view and don't forget who sent what you have seen.