As I walked into the backyard to find my son,
I wondered how I could ever explain it to him...
The scattered snow
on the icy lake...
A poem is like a window
whether clear or color paned...
As I watched from across the bar,
I could see her pain and emptiness within...
A straggler hanging
from its naked limbs, golden and brown...
(Stanzas in [] refer to the son and those without...
A noise from downstairs...
They say keep your chin up,
they say hold your head high...
For one more minute,
one second, of your embrace...
As I sat in the sand by the swings
I couldn't help pondering...
Its roar was thunderous and threatening.
It stood there, towering in the middle of a...
There is always a middle to a tootsie roll
and a break in the road as to pay a toll...
Finally,
the clouds have begun their retreat...