No Escape

You’ve taken precaution

Bites still penetrate

Replenished

Through the timber

and across the lake

   Haunting loon cries call

ravens begin to echo warn

I want

I want to be deafened by touch

Sensing only running chills

Visually Impaired

“Who is that old man in the mirror?” dad asked as he looked up with a crooked half smile.

Missing you

Deep breaths

Slowly exhale

Savoring what lingers

In the air

I Suppose

Where do you place broken pieces of color?

I suppose I will one day display them with pride

until then I’ll hide them

beneath my mosaic collar