Tag poetry

He, the complicated cause of me. Never, ever easy. Too similar or simply opposites.

Toast with zing, cut diagonally, sugar and cinnamon-candy for breakfast.

Clinging, the kitchen remembers my world in black and white, damn the color.

I refuse to admit I am starved for refuge.

Mom-capped Mom. She's tired, slumped, surrounded by six little ones.

Bees love catnip; they go crazy for it; afterward, we drowsed, full of honeyed sweetness like the bees that browse the catnip, it could be like catnip to us, and I remember the first time my Siamese kitten had catnip,…

In the plaza, he pirouettes, juggling, glittering mysteries.

This did not have to happen. No, none of this had to happen.

Homely, lonely night. Venus shines against vacancy.He doesn’t paint the bars that keep him so far from starry night. Transfixed by stars. The tree grows, it is living. It is hopeful.And so is he. Not always so. Seldomly like that-ever.…