it is a drear evening

a barren table

would-be sculpting in the varnish

drifting lights

sinking through an open window

my son is leaving

i sit and watch the fire

as embers

turn to ash

are seen no more

soon we’ll say farewell

i remember how when young

he’d run and jump on me

i’d hug him

kiss him

treat him like a king

as any lov...

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one night

i met a wandering likeness

of myself

its hand stretched out before me

and beckoned me to stay

i wavered

wondered

watched

then as i saw the hand recede

from the tree where it had slaved

i saw my life

carved out before me

for a while

i merely stood

and stared

then as i turned to walk away

i looked back

toward ...

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