The Gift of Disequalibrium


the nectar of fear

as balance re-calibrates~

surfing the big waves.

uncertainty animates

as I let the stasis go


My Father Was Not the Good Atticus Finch


I knew the dark and the light

and the dark clouded my vision.

fictional images of comfort

provided a beacon through the clouds.

but as my childlike images crumble

I sense the confusion clearing~

I see the array of complex tones in those clouds.