Stirrings

the past beckons

inviting me to sit for

a while

to relax with a cup of tea

“we’ve had such fun. remember

when …… ”

it tempts me

it’s comfortable there

familiar

it would be easy to stay

embraced in the arms

of Postverta forever

but I must stumble forward

something’s stirring just

around the next bendimage

Transformation

I flung my frail poetic words

up to the flaming star, the sun

letters rained down, rejected, shunned

scattered like storm-tossed twigs, undone

but birds and bees have salvaged them

reclaimed, renewed, turned into song

the air around me shimmers, hums

with hymn of fantasy begun

( I used the word sun and got the binary code 01110011)

Times Change

there’s

nothing

like it now

no eskimo

walrus or guitar man who can pen like

Zimmy did in those hazy days of youth

the ships have sailed

come on in

nothing’s

new