Under The Rock


There is nothing under the rock

Just some dust

Synthesized in a supernova crushing a cloud of gas into a new star
Five billion years ago

Fossilized shell remnants from a nautilus
Five hundred million years ago

Flakes cleaved off of a boulder when a pebble hit it during a hurricane
Fifty million years ago

Gastroliths from a crocodile eating nearby
Five million years ago

Colored pebbles gathered by a bowerbird displaying for a mate
Five hundred thousand years ago

Hills ground down from the ice covering the continent
Fifty thousand years ago

Grime dropped from a shoe of a man hunting antelope
Five thousand years ago

Ashes from a fire the wounded men danced around
Five hundred years ago

Coal from a steam train passing nearby
Fifty years ago

Construction debris from building new condominiums
Five years ago

Carpet sweepings from an unhappy home
Five months ago

Smoke from birthday candles for a one hundred year old woman
Five days ago

Sand placed by ants excavating their nest underneath
Five seconds ago

Just look


Nothing there


Just some dust
Under the rock


(Under The Rock has been accepted by Turtle Island Quarterly for publication)

Wrap Her Voice

Rolled blanket

Up on the stage, she slowly waves her hands over her head
Her ethereal song lifting all those around her
Singing as an angel
An ancient spirit is upon her

Afterwards, the techs wrap her voice
In a large blanket rolled around and around
To tightly fit roadie case #15
For transport to the next venue

Unpacked fifteen minutes before climbing onto the arena stage
She tests her voice and prepares for her call

He said that they should not silence her melody
Her sound should flow as freely as the wind
So she can answer the birds outside
And sing to her children

He begged her to think about her sacrifices
He reminded her that her voice is owned by her and not by her manager

She glanced at him, and he knew, more than if she spoke a thousand words
Her dream and her destiny

On the stage, she looks at him standing in the front row as she sings of love
He looks back, mouthing his response
And she slowly smiles, as a woman, as an angel, as a star

Pastry café


Saturday morning
Round white tables
Comfortable seats
Near the window
Almond croissant and coffee
Talk about our day
Touch your hand
College students at the next table
Local couple behind us
Pastry chef kneading dough
Counter workers filling orders
Take home a sandwich for lunch
Biscotti for tonight
Elephant ears for the kids
Fruit tarts for tomorrow’s dinner
Napoleon for the car
Cookies for whenever
Macarons for the holidays
All the colors
Stop by the farmer’s market
Then the library
Saturday afternoon
And be with you in the evening