The roaring river slows to a trickle amid long days when rage rises up flooding your soul drowning everything else out. – And yet, they wait just out of reach— the promise of a sunrise. This is the seventeenth poem…
The confidence of a teenage girl hangs from a long strand of silk that makes its way through bustling high school hallways all the way home where it is cut loose so she can be herself in a place she…
Sometimes I stop and look around and wonder why we do it For the 80 years we’re blessed with walking the earth why do we care so passionately about things – Our lives are but a speck on the timeline…
At the grocery store with all its plastic food and marketing light pushing a cart following my wife keeping the oblivious zombies stocking up for the week at arm’s distance thinking how hard it is sometimes just to get through…
A cup of coffee Some social media Then a shower and a swim meet sitting waiting cheering for 32.41 seconds and then back to sitting outside, under a tree, with a computer working for an hour until the next race…
it’s the wrong world for people who feel those who’ve graduated dogma’s ire suffocating under a blanket of sorrow while the world outside is on fire *** This is the thirteenth poem of my personal 30-day poetry challenge to break…
Writer. Father to daughters. Husband. Ad man. Raised by wolves. 
