I see the black in your eyes
And the red in your face
Your teeth grinding
Snarling

All I hear is ringing
From the high pitched screech
Coming from your throat

Fists balled
Shoulders tense.
All the signs
Of a threatened animal

Though I walk in your shadow
I do not fear you.

You are but a tiny ant under my heel
A gnat in my ear.

Pitifully Passing
his prime
thrusted through
the pain filled
passage of time .
Just to find himself
solemnly slipping
out of his
element . Sullenly
cementing
His time towards
turning the
tide.

In the upper floor of a two level Duplex
Norma and I did reside, together alone.
Her arrival at just past six a.m.,
Getting ready for school, I bemoaned;

I wanted to "move," Get the Hell out
find someplace not haunted," too late
sister Kathryn and family moved in below,
I fear the meaning of the words on the slate.

To Norma, I said: "This house is haunted
by a vile and murderous black soul!"
I did not think she would believe me
She hushed me hard, saying, "yes I know!"

She ponders where her penned life went,
words and seasons already spent,

like love sonnets from Italy,
cached into faded potpourri.

Her muse now wanders down a lane
of wild bramble, veiled and arcane.

Verses, lost, gently stepped aside.
Many moved on, while some have died.

Ardent thoughts, now seem less than prime,
perhaps they sense they're past their time.

Still, many lovely rhymes remain
as she ambles on down her lane...