Sunday, November 25, 2012

The Leaf

The brittle leaf seems heavy today.
Strong winds can’t make it flutter
nor can sweet spring entice it to sway.
For long it has weathered many a rough storms.
Now it hangs frozen with past fears,
awaiting season’s utter-
a streaming sunlight deep and fierce.

Sunday, November 11, 2012


Quiet becomes the night when lights dim
as the day’s labour is done.
Would a drink pamper the tired limbs?
A cafe breathes on a cobbled stone street-
Just across jingles a two-men band
with a guitar and steel drums,
and I, with a cold beer in hand.