Plumules outweigh Whispers, Tucked softly under chin, Warmly cloistered near the skin, Seeping into mind, Heart. Rumors, A mote, Floats, On a sunlight spear, Slips inside unwary ear, Amplified, Echoed lip to lip, Rolls down, Gains mass, Until transcending All the gas, Metamorphs, Into divorce, Or worse, A dagger tip, Beneath the rib. 4/2018


Walk between the lines, Quiet a century and a half, Except for whispers through a foggy shroud, Below squirrel teeth on hickory nut, Quieter than browsing deer, The echo of shot, Rebel yell, cannon, Rebound off stone sentinels. - Any summer-day family picnic, White cloth laid on blood-soaked earth, Children raise stick guns To fire … Continue reading Chickamauga