Poetry

  I came into your room today, to work here while you are at school. I found the perfect place to sit, back between the handles of your chest of drawers. The sun lights up...

  I wrote my first poem at 37 The age my father was when he  moved us lock stock and barrel from one port city to another.   I thought I’d feel older. Wiser. More in control...

  In this world Don't ask me to be a man For what I do, he cannot.   I carry the new. An idea, a metaphor, a life. My heart breaks, my muscles tear my bones shift from...