My Funeral

  A very peculiar thing began creeping into my brain a few months ago–something a person just shy of 50 years young doesn’t think about much unless they are terminally ill or just received a death sentence. Yes, the big D and I don’t mean divorce. Death started creeping up on me when I was…

I Am Full

You slapped your words at me You whispered to the others about my coat How it shined more than most Who do I think I am? That dreamer You insulted my Maker and chattered with hatred as if some birds beak would not carry the morsels then lay them at my feet. I don’t read…