DiaBLOGue

The Freeway

is two currents of light on the hill. 
One drains into the western sky, 
the other, into the maw of rock behind me.
I am a dazzled part of light that opens 

Cereal Polygamy

One of his had just spilled 
some Cheerios, and one of hers 

was griping over the Grapenuts. 
He was about to holler

Rapture

Patty Lou sat on her green vinyl sofa, her legs crossed, and thumbed through the daily Brookhaven newspaper. She glanced over at Robert, her thirty-year-old grandson, sitting on the brown vinyl sofa, reading the Jackson…

Brides of the Afternoon

White brides, dark grooms 
lustrous silks on 
an orange afternoon, 
scuffing through dry leaves