As the Moon is My Witness

Selene my silent sister

you were there that morning

dropping slow and weary

after a long night’s beaming

I noted your brilliance

in those last moments

before darkness descended

(though I knew not they were the last).

you beheld my downfall

in mute solidarity

accustomed as you are

to reflecting others’ light.

you were a touchstone, Luna

through the interminable months

I strained and contorted

climbed, risking censure

for a glimpse of your glowing orb.

I missed your presence

protracted gloom

those many moons

when I found you again

in harvest bleeding

I sat hours agog

penning amateur odes

awed by your lustrous veil.

unrestrained, I mark your phases

as I did mine own

honoring your fullness

with the fullness of my attention

above the trees, obscured

on the horizon

as I commute.

you rise, anon, Selene

gleaming, gleaning

shining light upon the lunacy

calling forth memory

glimmer and shimmer

harking back to havoc

shining forth

to halcyon revival

Anniversary Aggravation


she observes

the uptick in hypervigilance

she startles these days

significantly more often

than her norm

jumping out of her skin

without provocation

approach with silent footfalls

scaring her silly

muffled but unstifled


escapes mortified lips

hands fluttering, protect

jackhammering heart


she can draw the line graph

the spike in reactivity

distressing dysregulation

above her baseline

her psychologist brain

checks off the symptoms

chronicles the triggers

approximate proximate causes

camouflaged in oppressive heat

autumn stealthily encroaches

absconds with daylight

shuttered from early morn

creeps in

crunching crisply



her mind awhirl

in the busy-ness

of surviving

the calendar

bypassed consciousness

her senses register

seasonal signals

condensation clings

chilly to car windows

rolled for navigation

as they were that day

when the barrel pointed

and cataclysm commenced

memories seldom play

rough cut footage

edited out

of her current screenings

by a militant producer



her body


My Bones Intoned


(Inspired by a post by Oldepunk/Ramjet Poetry. Many thanks for the inspiration!)

carved into my bones

imprints of every stone



from eyes that spew cyclones

who claim to be blown

by my deeds sown

as they disown

laying of flagstones

paved on my backbone


as every bone

does crack and groan

in judgement’s zone

they clone


cackling crones

hone the drone

stomping on me, prone

my evils they bemoan

steeped in hell’s cologne

roan perfidy shown

never in peace alone


they nibble scones

baked of guilted crushed skull pone

while blazing fires shone

reflected in Styx overflown

rejecting deeds to atone


incinerated in fire and brimstone

ashes hot and glow’n

coalesce in piercing moan

scarred reknitted bones

chime the ascending tone

rising Phoenix flown