Night Watch


Alone at eighty

I don’t know 

Who I am

Or where I

Want to be

Wisdom is said

To come with age

But this change

Does not illuminate

I dread three a.m.

The night’s darkness

Verbal Injection


From now on I’m

keeping my poems

short and sweet


To the point


As innocuous as

a flu shot

Late in Life


Practice makes


So they say

But I’m running

Into the now

Or never

Current Affairs


Getting my affairs in order

In old age

Has nothing to do

With love

Or anything sexy

Instead it is a matter

Of wills

Heath care proxies

Penultimate life and death


To resuscitate 

Or not

Who gets great gramma’s

Rocking chair



My life’s  been put on hold

And my personal service rep

Just quit her job

Either I’ll wait on line until

Someone finds me

Or else I’ll hang up

Photo: Margot Boyd

Recent Poems



Sometimes I want

To go where  no one

Knows me

Live like a recluse

In an unwelcoming 


Gnaw on old bones

The bare remnants 

Of memory

Sleep all day

In forbidden corners

Prowl at night 

Over shadowy walls 

Wail at the moon

Sing the blues

Into oblivion

The Difference Between

Words and Actions


I love the word


How it sits on,

the page

Sounds to

the ear

But I prefer

to be

that not

Timed Out


The night watch


Keeps track of

the clock

While others are


In the digital


She counts each


Every tock