Son,
I’d step
in front of trains
or off high cliffs
under the blade
and onto mines
to it
softly
lively
out
essentially
die in your stead
Love Mom
Archive for September, 2014
As a samba goes
so does the summer’s
last dance in sand
while surf rolls
muted offshore
in whispers
she hushes you
to quiet small steps
fragrant embraces
and softer kisses
still she waves
a silhouette
in starlight
© Chagall 2014
My dad’s been dead
for many years
yet clearly
it’s his voice
coming out
therein
the static
from the speakers
© Chagall 2014
I sleepwalk all day
and lie all night
Call me
somnambulist fabulist
© Chagall 2014
Alphabet City 