She pulls her silver in patient ripples, stringing adhesive wire from spoke to spoke, clasping one circumference and another, and...

Like a hot air balloon of gasping brightness, The sun ascends the gravity of night, Flames into a blinding, red-gold ball...

The spooky squeal of haunted brakes, The death rattle wailing down the rails-- A late-night train Flies off the compass...

Pity the person who is afraid of the quiet. "It's too quiet in here," Sometimes I have heard students say across the years...

You wrapped your living soul around a lie;  A slow decay crept forward, causing truth to die. The death you chose was poignant, after all— Like earth from Eden after Adam’s fall.   So, yes, you fell—and dared the crowd to roar; You cloaked defeat in grace and asked for more— More limelight, glory, status, fame, and power, More glamour for the light you lost that hour—   That fateful hour that lengthened into day, The heavy dusk that carried

From little creatures' throats and wings, From heaven's doors ajar, Come pleasant sounds and hearts that sing-- For my...

Pit bulls Lick My sweating tracks In bloody greed. Above the gorge I sway on tiptoe-- An icicle...

I watched them enter lordly, prim. They stopped beside the offering bowl And slung their noisy pursefuls in. They have so...

Just-evening sun shouts at me eye-level across my loaded desk. Hidden birds giggle and caw from the live-oak limbs...

He picked the blessing green; A lot turned sour. "Green" for the best, He cast blind lots For Sodom's...

To be forgiven at all Is to be forgiven much. Against Christ's lily purity Is every mote a beam-- A beam...

When all was dark and I was tired, Decision pressured me to cry; Tears drowned the pain inside And buried the reason why.   Then came the...

I stand at the door-- Will you open? I've been knocking through the night-- Listening, listening, On this side. ...

Like little faces nodding smiles Of sunshine, love, and peace, My morning glories beckon me To take a garden...

There must be sunlight in a land of Dreams and when the shadows fall, moonbeams.   There must be flowers in a field of grain and pathways...

That one sweet Day of Rest when my mother and I explored   Her parents’ big heirloom Bible, We had no idea what we would find, Except God’s Words in German, Gothic “S’s” like swords stabbing with Shakespearean flair, Pages brittle with age.  The first few stories of Genesis lay only half-told, pages rippled away like sand.    There was no “in the beginning,”  No record of heaven’s birth, No registry of family deaths below.  Tenderly, we searched on.  I enjoyed voici