Dream

In morning fog
Dream fragments still wake
Through solid doors
A crack finds its place

Young love burned hot
Ice buckets with age
Snuff the embers
With dreams the last stage

Lakes were colder
Steep cliffs ragged shear
Pine needles sharp
And the waters clear

Few thoughts retained
With East rising sun
What I can’t touch
Is proof it is done

Marching On

arlington

My tribe scatters far
But what came before
Marches on

Arlington tribute
Restless children walk
Caisson procession
Small girl falls

Rifles and bagpipes
A crisp folded flag
He fought the good fight
We stand tall

A power unknown
Memories deeper
United through miles
Tribal bond

Meeting just today
We walked the same grounds
Lilac in springtime
Yellow corn

Passed to another
Ideals and passion
Righteous with valor
Marching on

A tribute to my uncle Edward L. Burnham
Held rank of Colonel with the United States Air Force
Laid to rest in Arlington this April

Photo courtesy Pixabay

Hallowing the pumpkin

FullSizeRender(1).jpgFirst the top
Then the inside
Scooped pulp
Seedy strands

Taped design
Creased folds
Pin pricked lines
Saw tooth cuts

Transformed
To décor
From gourd
Unadorned

Deliver us
From evil
All hallows eve
The communion
Of saints

Should we celebrate
You ask me

Putting on
The full armor
Holy spirit
Protect us
From darkness

Sacred and secular
Dark and
Triumphant
Truth in
Contrast

The punctured orb
Reveals light
In the dark

Pumpkin carved by Joan and Lana Mocco