My frightening moments in the toy section Jon Hillenbrand, March 22, 2007December 30, 2015 And with tears and longing, a forgotten child cringes, small hands clutching at the unpurchased toy, the life preserver and the reason and the hated reason, love at first sight, pretending not to notice the fading nearness of mothers skirt, vague fantasies projecting into mysteries. And all the world collapses in a blacked out tunnel, frozen light, dulled echoes, imaginary pins of sound with applied meaning, throbbing pulse in his brain, cold compression in the chest, palms sweaty and mouth dry. And the wanting desire for the now-trinket melting slowly into the realization that for wanting a better life the one he knew is slipping into the sea of adult stares and premature independence for this new untouchable. Darkness shall come, I shall not be found, my world is as short as a thick fog on a still sea. The motion, the familiar footstep, the turn of a hand and the way her back aches against the purse, there she is. Poetry photography
Poetry The Red Doorway May 12, 2010December 30, 2015 The red door dustily banged open temporarily scrubbing the dirty grout of the men’s conversation. She paused there in the opening, a sudden wind taking its cue to wrap around her silken form the particles of the failing daylight. Her swollen pout threw daggers at the men, her final words a Read More
Poetry Discovering your tiger face February 28, 2009April 27, 2018 There once was a tiger that lived in the jungle. She gave birth to a baby tiger cub, but then she died, leaving her cub alone in the world. The little cub went out searching for a mother. Read More
Poetry If you forget me June 26, 2010December 30, 2015 I want you to know one thing. You know how this is: if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to… Read More