small seeds of life’s fortune…

penny found on street
a lost soul without a home
deemed worthless by most
no one bends to pick it up
life’s true fortune cast aside


an abundance of caution…

the seeds of hatred
beneath the nation’s soil
need only warm blood
to bring forth the rotting corpse
of injustice to full bloom


the library…

one life to a book
collections of short stories
all first editions
once a book has been removed
just a few are remembered
most are forgotten
their spaces are soon refilled
with newer copies
dusty historical books
the only remnants of souls




corpse still in its bed
when looters entered chambers
seeking what’s precious
greed’s stench was upon their hands
as they pried off freedom’s ring


all the president’s junkyard dogs …

they appear lifelike
but have no humanity
they are just castings
hollow men who resonate
whatever you want to hear


mr barr…

(Edited Public Domain by Tia Dufour)

only one person’s
shown criminal sedition
he’s in the white house
so why not do your duty
and lock up the real traitor


garland of freshly cut tears…

placed upon the street
love’s silent testimony
dried salty white wreath
left by a grieving mother
oblation to freedom’s god


dr. pangloss unavailable…

request for light verse
the kind that warms every heart
maybe about joy
children playing with new toys
nothing about their war zone