Press Into Me


Press into me one more time

My firey leaves are quivering at the cusp

Soon my house will be gray and dull

And winds will remind how cracked I am


But not now.

Maybe not ever again.

Look around, who else is this red?

Press into me before I go …


I’m waiting.




Squinty Eye

Squinty Eye

 I saw his eye, in the squinty squinty sun

I thought it might be dead

The cicadas and spiders are changing their guards

Even the mosquitos have become fat and slow

But not that eye, in the squnity squinty sun

I saw it grow.