Eight Years


March 5, 2019-

On that quiet morning,

your spirit filled our room.

I knew the life we shared

was about to end.

Your body,

ten miles away,

in a lonely hospice room.

was left behind,

and you traveled alone,

to the Placeless,

even as our son and I

were hastening towards

your somber abode.

With a swirl of wind,

dust and leaves,

you greeted us,

soaring upward,

in farewell.

Each of us embraced,

the still remains,

of the love of my life,

whilst comforted

in the knowledge

of suffering’s end.


Aggression: Macro,Micro, Nano


September 13, 2017, Prescott-

Of course, I endure aggression- macro and micro, on a daily basis.

Fortunate, I am, that macroaggression is rare,

and is usually the flailing of a frightened child,

or the blaring horn of a vehicle,

driven by someone in the throes of misdirected rage.

Microaggression is more common:

The supervisor who tells self

that control of subordinates is paramount;

the restaurant server who rushes a lone patron,

through a meal,

so that a hypothetical party of two or three

will not be inconvenienced;

the neighbour who walks about,

nose in the air,

lest the great unwashed might

deign to speak their peace.

Those who minimize the suffering

of victims of natural disasters,

as, after all, “it’s not happening here!”

Are there  nanoaggressions?

I hope not, as this might

smack of paranoia,

on the part of the beholder.