looking at the world through drops of counterfeit lace on the window pane

Tide tickling sun’s wake Under a thin skin of ice Beach disappearing

see them standing in glass houses clutching stones of fear anxiety suits and shoes boots and jeans makeup and hair powdered and perfumed

surf and turf of St. Andrews olde salts and bullshit under one blue tarp gossip thick as molasses sparks quick as match-lit gas

which of our ancestors did it - traded wings for thumbs burdened us with possessions fed us to the uncompromising earth…

liquid blue nightgown made of lighter fare floats in romance of autumn air a ballerina in an erotic dance longing to join that v-trail in th…

crickets and brittle leaves empty seed pods scurrying in the heavy scent of autumn

last night the winter world transformed to summer’s sphere fireflies in the night their aimless paths alight

crumbling mortar and stone among the trees it stands alone morning glories creep upon the flo… the stair has fallen through the d… the music of summer is in the air

my real name was Clarence but they always called me Dummy because they thought I was stupid I lived with my Mom and swept up… for a dollar a day ‘cause

Life has a way of playing the vile… Or, providing an evener, some migh… I, who did not want to go to war, Seeing the senselessness of it, Stayed at home to work the farm -

silent universe solitary traveller a perfect union

In the lamplight leaf shadows break on the ragged edges of my heart

I saw their faces as clearly as if… on their stones beneath their name… heard their voices in the trees whose roots go deep into their dus… and into the dust of this Island