Tuesday, February 14, 2017


Wellington: half-hot and half not

                    half super-smart and strutting-stuff, half scruff.

Found in one of my old diary entries, from May 1989 

Thursday, February 09, 2017



Each time I climb the stairs
the faded photo of the skinny boy
is leaning to the left again.

Smarten up, boy! I say.
He grins, salutes, and again
next time I climb, to the left

he leans. I'll inform your sergeant,
I state, but the boy's sergeant,
we both well know, is long gone. The

boy hooks his crooked cap rightwards,
to compensate for his lingering
leftward lean. Long dead, this

teenage, ageless soldier

grins, salutes. And leans again.