Signs that might be seen as omens
send me on my way
the daylight waning for today
and luck still virgin on display
flying close to danger’s coven
The wind blows fortune’s empty cast
as trackless dreams setout
dispelling hope and bringing doubt
without a name to even tout
caught within tomorrows fast
I see each warning clearly now
they speak much like a friend
whose words as tokens try to bend
rushing blindly toward the end
captured voices left to bow
Those signs that led me all point down
the road is changing fast
no clear distinction first from last
my future damned to be my past
— the devils fiddle calling loud
(Saint David’s Pennsylvania: February, 2024)
But Winners & Losers
I have no regard
for other poets
how could it be other
As they conscript
the words away
of which I’ve not discovered
A battle royal
zero sum
as phrases block and parry
The winner left
his voice reclaimed
— the loser most disparaged
(The New Room: February, 2024)
Beyond The Wind
Like a boy in the wild
raised by wolves
my poetry is sired
Tracking the scent
of each hunted word
traps set for me most dire
Uncaught or caged
by academia
my trail still honor bound
To wander freely
beyond the wind
— alone to stand my ground
(Ronald McDonald House: February, 2024)