Riddle

Instead of aromatic scents,
Sweet strains are in my flower blent. 
A single thorn adorns my stem. 

Ripping Yarn

Whoever he was, he’s dead now — 
Beyond our justice anyhow 
You slice it. All the same, we’d like to know 
His name, if only so 
We can can eviscerate him in
The dark alleys of public opinion. 

The letter everybody says 
He didn’t write was in red ink because 
The blood he had collected in an empty 
Bottle of ginger beer congealed too quickly. 
They think it was a newspaper man, 
Propping up the flagging circulation. 

Round Trip

The supernumerary star 
Departing from Orion 
Flies like a parting arrow-shot 
Backwards at the Lion
Rearing on its two hind feet 
Upward in the east, 
While for the dim horizon’s hills 
The Hunter quickly flees. 

Doorbell

The tree in the front yard 
Keeps peering in the windows
And waving its hands,
As if it is someone 
I know, who knows that I am home 
Despite my not answering
The tinkling wind chimes. 

The Ruined Garden

Decolorized, a garden grows 
Less friendly than before. 
Without its lovely red, the rose
Is just a weed with thorns. 

Deprived of green, the grasses cease 
To lap like gentle waves, 

But flutter feebly in the breeze, 
The moldy thatch of graves. 

The fountain that this morning flashed 
And sparkled in the heat, 

Now falls in filthy tatters like 
A fraying winding sheet. 

Even the great white cotton clouds,
So harmless in the light, 
Like ghostly galleons terrorize
The star bombarded night. 

Less kind, but no less beautiful;
Less colorful, but still 
As magical or more without 
The superficial frills. 

Moon Tree

A plaque here says the seed 
That gave birth to this tree 
Once orbited the moon.
 
I readily concede 
The tree looked plain to me 
Until I knew that too. 

Shadow Box

Sometimes I imagine 
All of the letters crowding 
The ruled shelves of a paper
Cabinet slowly bowing 

Beneath them as I weigh them 
And place them carefully 
From left to right in something 
Akin to symmetry, 

And pray that when I’m finished 
And close the thin glass door, 
I haven’t said so much 
It crashes to the floor.