What Crosses My Mind

  • He Stood On Memory

    Can you sing me a song like they do on the radio? the kind leaves the kids smiling in their beds. Can you sing me a song like they do on the radio? The kind leaves the kids smiling in their beds. ~ I remember when I was only a child in the summertime listening…

  • Finding a Moment

     Go home and write       a page tonight.       And let that page come out of you—       Then, it will be true. – Langston Hughes ~ Though when time would suggest it is an easy ask, this only task we have in life, is to speak our truths, who it is we might be, what we believe,…

  • Conversations With My Dad

    People suggest we ought not imagine conversations with the dead.   The afterlife we’re told often speculation a creation of our own need to reconnect.   Yet if it weren’t true they’re listening, then these tears that fall would not be real.   I have conversations with my dad, the difficult questions, the hard to…

  • When My Father Cried

    It was the changing season, a tragedy, we were all crying, dumbfounded and surreal the moments ahead forever. He was heart-broken no place to stand or sit or feel, just simple pain, always and forever, misty eyed and helpless to the reality of the human condition. He’d been tested, he’d been traumatized, together ships passing…

  • While Sitting Alone

    The picture window, my guide to the world around me, could be a rainy day, I watch the slick survival of a city, might now sunshine cast shadows, while domesticated bird houses offer a gallery, for my child-like eyes, to always wonder why.   Soft fabric of the green sitting chair, matched the other nearby,…

  • The Sitting Hours

    I always looked forward to the late hours, the night flying by with dialogue and absurdities, everything we could say we believed, and more importantly, we loved, We did delight in knowing we could look in each other’s eyes, well into the twilight, all of us, whoever might have chosen the time, or simply allowed…

  • Dad

    How close do we come to understanding where it is that we belong, when alone we sudden realize we remember a song, a laugh, a sort of posture always held true. If I could see you in the manner I feel you, would that be all I need. There’s so much more beyond the memory…

  • Outside, the Rains

    With only a few drops to touch the patio blocks i can return home again, to picture window mornings watching the birds sift through the rain in natural habitat, I do recall the street became gradually river like, creating the later streams in culverts home-made sailboats would venture throughout the city neighborhoods entertaining all the children…

  • Dad?

    Can I talk to you, can you remind me about how simple life can be, I want to see you standing there, looking serene with your smile, just knowing it will be alright. that might help me you know, to accept that I can be okay. Right now Dad, I can barely see, but you…

  • While Away

    What I knew, at least what you told me while glancing your eyes across the horizon, a small plane ascending over the hill, and you’d duck your head while driving the mail to the post office. We had our ritual Sunday nights, nothing unusual, just a drive to drop off your bookwork. The part that…