Though the baby came late,

he came in a double-breasted suit,

olive green.

The Doctor examined him:

     “…ten toes, ten fingers,

     bright eyes, rolex, wing-tips,

     hard-drive, multiple fonts,

     and a five year, 50,000 mile


Later they all had espresso.


Nocturnal Truth

It gets dark

and I think about

all the times

it got dark


but a darkness inside

where light never shines.

I can see that time


and turn my face

back towards the light.

I am unarmed

and unafraid

in this newer light.

When it gets dark now

I can simply surmise

that the sun

has set.


I see the setting sun,

and the powder-blue sky

lit with fluffy white clouds

and lined in pink,

and I feel sorrow

at all the beauty

the universe contains

and yet goes unseen

by the eyes of man.

The neighborhood moves

at its usual pace

as my son babbles

and tugs at his clothing.

We are alone

and overwhelmed

in the streets of this world,

while the aching-glory

peals around us.

A million words will never provide

the breadth or scope

of the world as it confronts us

and I fell weakened

as a result.

My son laughs at the planet

and I must chuckle, too…

it is the least I can do.

He has his ways

He has his ways.

He is only ten months old,

but he has decided

some traits

are his

and he is loyal

to observing them.

I can see

(if I strain and squint beyond the horizon)

his future person

and I have to fight

the desire to change him

before he has begun.

He has altered my focus

from whatever was before

to these things that are the only truths


He is honesty


and made real

in simplest form.

He knows no restraint

and can only be


He has his ways,

they are manifest

and they fulfill me.

I hugged a duck.

At the lavender festival

the baby laughed at puppies

and we ate

crappy food-stall


There were vendors



you never needed

but always suspected you wanted

and it was all


The sun threatened

all pale-skin

as the baby sheltered

under every piece of shade

while laughing

and chatting…

to the air

and to strangers.

One of the more unique features

(before the road-to-home swallowed us)

was an older woman

and a duck of sweet disposition

(please re-read title).

Then a stop at the fragrant fields

yields a bumper-crop of photo’s

of lavender and smiling children

to cap a trip

that honestly ended

in the tears

of the over-tired.


I take refuge

in the simple things;

whatever needs doing

and allows me a moment

of solace.

I like to pick up the dog shit,

with the plastic scooper.

I wander the back-yard

like a desperate mine sweeper

and search for turds.

Some have hardened

while others seem fresh, moist…

I have become erudite

and jealous of my learned ways

concerning dog shit.

It gets me out of the house

and for that reason

the dog

is on double rations.