from our yard a view of cornfields and a red barn
Come in and stay awhile.
I remain shy about sharing art attempts.
Also feel the same about sharing my poems of long ago.
But it's now or never. Here are two without titles.
Thoughts of you come to me
when I least expect
On a crowded bus
In a secondhand shop
At a matinee
Painful thoughts too dear to ignore
like old outgrown clothes
that push into my workaday world
Thoughts of you come and refuse to go
inside, protected and secure but
desirous, are feelings
They long to burst forth
like the sun at dawn
with fiery force.
before all tenderness dies. . .