as rain ends.

and I’ve never known him
this man of earth, of war
and weedy cypress, lizards
and their fluted skins
married to the wind;
phantom epistles
from Vietnam

Grandfather. (Prose)

Sometimes I wonder who you were, what kind of person you were. You were my father’s father. You are dust now. You are in the death of an ocean well.

Forgotten (to silence).

Stare at the ceiling,
I am an afterthought,
dreams cast
forgotten memories
in twilight’s tongue
rivaling alone