I AM

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Across worlds, a blink
Child to man, a breath
A product of what I think

And there is tenderness
Sometimes quite enough
Often falling from the caress

Never leaving, nor arriving
I am here in this moment
I am here, always, loving

I AM

Stoic

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Storm

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Photo: Courtesy of John Kelsey

Storms knife edge
Slicing into being
Cutting deep
Calloused scars open

Healing yet again
Heart still beating
Never doubtful
Never falling

Stoic

 

I Was

playing

I was a boy throwing sticks
The chestnut tree so tall
Hours every day
The prize that would not fall

In driving rain before school
I would try to hit
The autumn’s last prize
Never doubting it

“Conkers” was the game
On a string to split
Oven baked on a string
That final hit

And I remember that
A life so simple and pure
So free in innocence
That life endures

Stoic