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I posted the latter of these two poems on this blog around 18 months ago, but I thought I’d post both of them to show how writing styles might change, while leaving the writer beneath intact.

Cycles, 2013

darkness wails in windswept winter
white with dust and frosted dew
broken branches, barely bother
scraping daytime from my shoe

winter falls and thus to springtime
footfalls tread on mildewed pass
blink an eye and summer’s sadly
dead and gone like sun-scorched grass

autumn’s awful, full of schooling
never learned the lessons well
falling for the futile blessing –
leaves once red, now brown, in hell

empty arms that wail, despairing
once were warm, now softly, sing
how a love once lay there telling
lies that winters lead to spring.


Cycles, 1982

winter turns to spring
spring turns to summer
summer turns to fall
fall finds me in school
in school i don’t learn nothing
nothing fills my life
my life is dead like winter
winter turns to spring

One thought on “Cycles

  1. Bess Jones says:

    I like both poems. As often happens when feeling deep emotion I am lost for words. I can feel the nuances between the two pieces, and I know what the first means to you. I like them both. Both speak with a tonal quality that chisels away a clay baked hard by years of weather, revealing beneath the tender heart that gives them form and purpose.

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