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The Leaves are Withering

A poem: The leaves are withering,They look pale and brown,They lie lifeless figures,Scattered, at sundown. Their branches quietly mournThe loss of their children,Desolate pieces of woodOld and abandoned. The trees seem quite strange,By day, they appear listless,But come dusk, become frightened,Fearing the darkness.The forests may seem green,For in silence, they lose life,Their littered paths bespeakThe …

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The Deal

A set of tankas(and reverse tankas) There once lived a man,The king of shadows,Armed with the powerTo manipulate darknessAnd channel its ghastly gloom. It flowed within himLike blood, a terrible forceThat consumed his soul,Yet never controlled his mindNor influenced his actions. Although he survivedIn comical poverty,He desired not onceA life of great luxury,Chose one of …

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Time is Too Little

A poem: The sun’s going down,I look at my desk-Of books and papers,A mountain of mess. There’s homework to do-I let out a sigh,There’s too much that needs doin’Too little to brush aside… I can hear the boys outsideDribbling the basketball,Only half an hour to goBefore I answer their call… I write a couple pagesBefore …

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