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The book The House of the World has been nominated for the Pulitzer Prize and is now available on Amazon.


The streets had a smell of dust.
Houses remained unpainted.
The bay still had sunfish
and the world’s crimes were faraway.
He died so long ago.
Time takes a toll.
Even love crumbles through the years.
I tremble.
I want to make amends.
I want things I kept,
put in his hands.
I want tears I caused,
to be mine.
I want time denied, to be granted.
He could not hear,
rather the world was a whisper,
but he spoke from that silence,
and few ever knew.

The youngest, among the seven,
a fragile mind,
yet a wit survived,
a sense of the comic,
in the sagas of unhumorous lives.
He denied his destiny.
He saw fate as a stone
signifying nothing.
I loved him and ignored him.
He stayed where he was.
He went to a room inside himself,
time passing,
laughed when I visited,
and finally with a weakened heart,
he died,
his rainbow fallen, where little
Sharon lies.

Published inIndex of all Poems