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Angel At The Gate

In the year I was sixteen, on the first day of that new year, my father died, and since that time I have longed hopelessly for a paradise that will never return.

The Horseman Of Marrakech

I rubbed my eyes to clear my vision. I looked closely once again to make sure. I could barely see the tall shape prancing in and out of the traffic. I squinted through the haze and then knew I was seeing what I thought I was seeing. “Yes,” I said to myself, “he thinks he’s a horse.”

Selected Poems

Selected Poems

Sunbeams

One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.

Carl Jung

The Spider

West Virginia

Selected Poems

Selected Poems

A Nursery Rhyme