Posted in 2017, poetry, Writing

What is Knowable?

What is truly knowable?

The sound of rain on the roof,

the cool feel of the strong wind

as I step outside?

The sound of many vehicles

zooming by on a highway?

The sound of the air conditioner

suddenly turning on?

My thoughts or those of others?

What can truly be known

when I am alone with my thoughts?

Posted in 2017, poetry, Writing

The Woman in the Waiting Room

Sitting alone, waiting for some news,

keeping the mind busy with reading,

but thoughts still push forward

tricking me into believing a lie.

The room is silent,

empty except for a few nurses

standing near the walls watching,

themselves waiting for something.

A woman walks into the waiting room

from the small office near the back.

She is cheering, hugging all the nurses,

tears flow down her face out of relief

and at this display, I, the one other person in the room

look away as tears begin to fill my own eyes

because I know my news won’t be good.

Posted in 2017, poetry, Writing


A quick beat is heard throughout the forest

as the woodpecker knocks on the tree.

It stops for a moment to eat

before flying off to another tree

that has been yet untouched by its kin.

Other animals stop and stare

before moving on with their days.

Posted in 2017, poetry, Writing

Memory Box

In this box there is:

A used movie ticket for a popular film,

two tiny alien ninjas from a pod,

a piece of soft fabric,

a stone with an unknown origin,

some stickers from various events,

a carved racecar which won every race,

some old badges from long ago,

pictures of everything and everywhere,

and many smiles, tears, and broken bones

all locked up tight in this box.

Posted in 2017, poetry, Writing

Awaiting the Sunrise

I am lying awake awaiting the sunrise

in the warmth beneath my blankets

and my head snug on my pillow.

I stare up at the ceiling, a million

thoughts race through my mind

as my body fills with fear.

I reach upwards but there is no one

awake for my hand to grab so I

clasp only cold air.

Slowly I calm down until I just want

to fall asleep once more but now its too late.

The setting moon fills my room with light

as I drape my arm across my eyes.

The leave of the old tree outside rustle loudly

in the cold morning breeze.

Outside everything is calm,

just as it should be.