Western Nebraska Thoughts and Life

On the Other Side For the man filled with sorrow anxiety that rises from brokenness wondering if today is the day when what your heart longs...

 If My Poetry Were A Place My poetry is a sacred interior soil  that reclaims fertility where the earth blooms in a well tended garden A pla...

Grit Yesterday… I felt old Like that old cottonwood that creaks in the wind with a few withered limbs I never thought of myself as old,... e...

Human Condition Like the stark winter wind blowing over the drifts a frigidness draws questions of life and love Who have I been why have I ...

Drifting Snow skitters across the ground driven by tyrannical wind whipping up a ground blizzard Those light fluffy thoughts not rooted, loo...

Cypsela Love drifts like the white dandelion cypsela in the Nebraska wind looking for a place to land, to bury itself in wet soil or to floa...

Peace Upon Inner Critic November mornings filled with dirty pink dawns light tenderly brushes the clouds in glory hidden moments when world ...

  A Lament A winter gale that pushes snow about as if it were sands of time right into my lungs as inhale all its rage pushes so hard agains...

 Threshold/Story Line Chiffon clouds veil the sun teasing light and shadows upon brown prairie blade as year is at its threshold Seductive m...

Thaws Beneath the warmth of the winter sun snow slowly moves across the river valley settles lower and lower in all the crevices and ravines...

 Ode for the Dog Some of my best friends have been dogs they aren't fickle and they are always happy to see me a wet nose and nuzzle exc...

I'll Call You Nebraska Upon finding myself in the backwater of tall brome and blazing sky I get it the revulsion many have to this place...

What If Some say life it's about leaving a legacy… what if life is about leaving a smile on another's face  what if life is it about...

Blue green berries on the tips of the cedar hang seductively as the finch lands close only to spot me and fly to a perch watching me, wonder...