Life abhors a vacuum,
writing hates it too
So many questions, so much space,
meat to fill the stew
Emptiness is calling,
for words to write the wrongs
Where idle minds take up the space
—left vacant for too long
(Austin Park: February, 2021)
Prisoner Of Time
Drifting into the past,
tomorrow slipped further away
Drifting into the past,
my writing had little to say
Drifting into the past,
the moments became moments no more
Drifting into the past
—being no longer certain or sure
(Dreamsleep: February, 2021)
Akicita
One may lose his honor
—but it can never be taken from him
(Pine Ridge South Dakota: July, 2009)