The toy mower
sits blue behind
the daffodils sprouting
boyhood joy waiting
for tomorrow.
The Way We’re Wired
When there is silence
I know he is not bored, only quiet.
His quietude ends with connections.
Maybe he gets this from his dad.
Default mode: I love you.
Self Review
Worthlessness skulks about in duplicitous sheets cloaking us in unlined clouds.
Does worth hide in chicken stew, twice-cooked beans, chocolate chip banana bread?
Does worth hide in freshly laundered clothes, recycled containers, sparkling countertops?
Your true nature is preciousness, even at rest.
