“Force”
Dark matters, light years,
unending expanse that must
be bound by something.
Steve D
Dark matters, light years,
unending expanse that must
be bound by something.
Steve D
New toys, contraptions,
new faces, hugs, and places,
an endless delight.
Steve D
Thousand little lights
pulsating at random, but
in concert — patterned.
Steve D
All others away,
except those dedicated
or out of time off.
Steve D
Beating the traffic
and gathering for presents
well before the rush.
Steve D
Twenty-plus years on,
bantering after dinner
into the wee hours.
Steve D
Refreshing, earthy,
like cold nights, a fire-warmed hearth
from one aroma.
Steve D
Chips off an old trunk
fly with every swing, making
me wish I worked out.
Steve D
Pale morning sunlight
creeps through the blinds, and this one
laughs and crawls on us.
Steve D
A contoured landscape
imperfect, interrupted
by edges, angles.
Steve D