To-do List

The words are gone,
faded away
in the impossibly hot glare
of the noonday sun.

All that is left
is the in and out
of daily breathing

that is the last thing

on my to-do list.

Present Continuous

mourning
grieving
bleeding
leaving

changing
growing
running

knowing

I move through the day
as through molasses--
sweet, sticky,
and slow.

I am a snail
in the summer
a listless sloth
among strong, sinewy saplings.

I live in a dream world
of subconsciousness.

Naked in public,
I walk uncertainly
into a strange classroom.

I have not studied
for the test.

I find myself
suddenly
in the middle of a road,
the blacktop
hot under my chest.

I pull myself along
at an agonizingly slow pace.

I am unable to crawl away
from the moving train.

The Great Impressionist
takes His brush in hand
and thickly lays on the paint
in neutral greys
and soothing whites,
in tender greens
and ruddy browns,
giving us peaceful respite
in the noonday sun .

Finding Your Angel

Find your angel--
your being of light,
created by God
for infinite praise
of His immeasurable Love.

Draw strength
from God's messenger
poised in flight,
ever vigilant,
ready to rescue
on a wing
and a prayer.

Find your angel.

Naked Light

My eyes squint in protest
against the naked light--
red hot--
too bright

against the others--

politely soft

and unfocused

Gettysburg in Time

As we quickly travel
through a tunnel of time,
scrambling backwards
up the slippery slide,
hunting for history,
we chase the elusive
spirits of the Civil War
as the blinding light
of our own century
bleaches out
the ghosts of the past.