Up on a hill

Joseph kept watch

The bend in the river below sunlit

Chromium plated


A coiled snake between meadows

Murmuring with contoured malcontent




He wandered the graves with Malice

The Dog of War at heel salivating

Pawing the mud for bones

And feathers



At last light

In February’s awakening

When the snow had settled

And the fighting ceased

The sky filled the ruins below

With wonderment

Upon every shattered casement

Shelled and hulled obituaries gathered

The shadow ghosts

Iridescent souls

Brought together to roost

One last time



Chattering to the heavens

They fled

On morning’s mist

To be seen no more


He built his den
In winter woodland
In sight of paths and
Passing new friends

To weave the walls
With willow withies
He bent both knees
In spite of snowfalls

And like a magpie myth
Collected shiny wet stones
Feathers forged and blown
By nature’s blacksmith

Placed with care
His offerings glistened
In season christened
His love to share