In Summer We Stand Up

Now that the summer’s gone
and the Station Wagon is rusted
into the American lexicon,

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Hero

He’s nobody’s hero,
the man that wakes at dawn,
the bagger that packs bags
’till swole with groceries.

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Lullaby

We are living in Orwell’s mind,
while Huxley sings his lullaby

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O’ Liberty – An Acrostic Poem

Liberty’s wields her sword
in most imperceptible ways,

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Flower – Short Poem

Flower,
perfect pearl blue.

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