I am originally from Springfield, Ohio, and currently live in London, Ohio. I write poetry to make sense of the world and my place in it.  I have been fortunate to have my work accepted for publication in several print and online magazines.  

I Saw a Woman


The trees continue
recycling their timely poems
year after wind-blown year.

Soon the tenement glow
is shadowed with ice.

The bare limbs of timber
click and knock
in the windy woods
like two bucks
locked-up and tangling
over the deepest hunger.

This room is silent
and the wind is deaf.

Kids walk the ridges
carrying sticks
owners of imagination
on small wooded acres.

At the first scent of woodsmoke,
residents of alleyways,
speakers to animals,
converse between the lonely
and the gravel-bound.

Tonight the sunset
reminds me of someone.
I had never seen a face like that.
She possessed the room.
It had a special glow.
My stomach leaped to my chest.
Her red choker was a song
her hair a field. And that face.
I could barely stand to look,
I couldn't bear not to.

Now the trees go blind
with shadow
and the pumpkins take on
the spirit of the sunset,
while I dream the dreams
of love and death.

reprinted with the permission of Burningword Literary Journal and the author


​
February


one needn't be
caught in the density
of canyon river eddies
to learn of impossible currents
of dark cold depths


a day passed in seclusion
winter's stiff-armed oppression
unnamed and desolate
as an old abandoned warehouse
rotting in the rust-belt


soon the sun
sets in motion its oral tradition
translated and transmuted
by the poet and the priest
before the cold orange aura


tucks the trees away
under a blanket of night
whose certain temperament
moves toward everyone
everywhere at all times

reprinted with the permission of Burningword Literary Journal and the author