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Chips Off the Block A song is a peeled-off band-aid That turned to butterfly; A poem is a scar From a thought that went too deep. Sometimes we have to live the songs We only ever wanted to sing; And we give best our loss Of what we had wanted always to keep. 11/21/21

Sniffing at Tombs

Fall Must Ah the darkening, dimning day That makes us sorry for all the sunlight we never saw; Softly may it close the eyes of summer Gently may it rest the head of spring Warmly may we dream, and remember Embraced beyond the coldest winter’s sting 10/21/21


Hope for Autumn Such a rush,                         swirling up,             Leaves upon a                                     wonderful wind Smelling of             myrrh and aloe Leaping from                         brightly dying Hosanna trees franticly waving             at the                                     Bashful sun 6/10/20


One Kind of Glory Fire-starter, you smoldering coal Who will not be put out but by gentle hands Branded with divine injustice; May you burn never too bright to look upon Never too hot to hold near. Little sun, small wonder Some would shrink away in fear. May you burn never too low to light the way home Never too Read More