Poetry Archives - Page 11 of 16 - Baltimore Post-Examiner

from the vacant stillness

from the vacant stillness of late august in maryland i’ve been long ago far away follied down a well after

it’s love not Hollywood the cordial intimate breakfast table conversation the peck on the cheek the quick hug (which sometimes

The man walks up to our door. I can’t see his face, but he can see me looking at him

I wandered across the moor, Intrigue guiding my heavy steps, And history and memories pushed my journey on. The ghosts

It smells like opium dancing in your nostrils With a rush of wind flying through your hair And the kiss

Hey there, Mama, look at me! I’m a firefighter, can’t you see? Saving lives — as brave as can be.

She struts the stage, coyly, of the Cold Chrome Club, somehow balanced on high six inch heels. Lithely wrapping her

It’s not about a holiday shopping spree It’s not about neighbors singing Christmas songs Not about a beautifully decorated tree

Every heart that has warmth is capable of an embrace Reaching into who and what you are and finding the

Like many, my life is a journey A flow of ups and downs Highs and lows that sculpt my mind