Poetry

All poems are free,

the only way they’re meant to be.

But if you’d like

a personal copy,

I’ll write you one for $10

and put it in the mail.

Grandpa

Norwich, 2016

I hear you

in the wind-chimes

bellowing.

Yodeling too, and carrying on

with tales of conflict and lore.

It’s a lust for life that suits you,

a big bellied man

with a kid in each hand,

rich with the love of your family.

You care for the land

and the forest around you

as if it is your own,

and you drink from the wind

and spread it around

as if it were never unknown.

These are the stories we share when you’re gone,

these are the stories that need you,

these are the stories you made here on earth

and somehow these stories precede you.

I hear you,

in the wind-chimes,

bellowing.