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Collected Poetry

    (rd king dot net)
poetry and digital art

Beating Heart, Dancing Feet  

  Reading The New Yorker While My Father-in-Law Tries to Decease 


Sullen spaces send my heart
awry.  Small remembrances,
grave forebearances couple with
the long lost, long ago—odd

moments rekindle.  One more
labored breath, one more drip
of the harrowing sublime.  The
hope is:  the consenting moment,

the short good-bye.  Instead, a
procedural surprise,  insistent tears
(everyone talking as if they knew),
the brightness pointing to regret,

remorse, resign; and for whatever
question that might remain, the
      unanswered answer.



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