windrag : poetry : journal

:: f : w : i : w ::

just notice

outside: cold spring night.
roses: pink, white.
sounds: sneezes, streetlight.
pants: just right.

near future

listening to the current political discourse
brings my thinking mind to a halt.
it may indeed be wise to learn to be happy
living under a bridge.

parental pride

he chewed and swallowed a clove of fresh raw garlic.
i ask him “was it spicy?” “no.”
i humbly accept his offering: the last few slices
of home-pickled watermelon radish.

preparations

days lengthen. sleep comes late.
child abed, work begins.
light backpack of youth buried
in the closet.

hoe

straightforward and direct, i’m only as destructive as you are.
we run on the same fuel. efficiency for its own sake
isn’t our way. our dance will nourish or break you,
depending on your manner.