Category Archives: Poetry

Red Bridge


Photo by markpeate

Growing up
on the edge a Midwestern town,
I used to stare
out my front window
across a lowland
about a half mile
before a wooded rise
that caught my vision.
It was etched by rails
that ran along a stream
all the way
to the stockyard.
I felt that there
was a secret
out there
but I was unable
to determine what it was.
I would search
that area on foot
season after season
to no avail.
I stand
in a hazy distance
looking back
across a lowlands
at a young boy
who was searching
for something
he already


the fields

bridge photo

before all else,
maybe an opening
in a tree trunk,
perhaps a bonfire
or possibly
an arch, a bridge
over the currents of horror
churning brownish black,
stunning in its intensity
exploding toward the light
of the next level
of existence.

beings blossoming up
lifting to clouds of gold,
gazing to the heavens
to the manifesting divinity
of times past
a stunning glory
as fortold

or is it
the defeated,
enslaved to break the rock
of cold resolve
or crushed by the caves
of fear or the cloud
of indecision.

or the impulses of beings
completely defeated
lending strength to each other
so that the watchers
gather in what
the season would bear


theatre stage photo

Within the moments
during an interaction between people,
there are unseen
interlaced moments
that lie just below the surface.
Another drama is being
played out. A drama
without pretence where the actors
know each others thoughts
where no one grows old
or has regrets.
It’s a place where we are in on the joke
where we wait for a moment
off stage
and go over our lines.