In The Sack

Times how many do you hold out your hand?
This shaddow I, and the me of self, asking.
No replay...they die in another world,
There is voiceless dead, where heads count.

Rounding window, wings flap and fold.
Time passes, the old die slowly,
My friends, my love, the memories.
Blood, flesh, bones, weeping bodies sold.

The sound of dirt shifting...in fresh grave.
Real, asleep of death, where worms banket the meal.
In the taste of life, the corporal life half eaten,
"Dark this night of death", crows Black Raven.

Gnarled fingers grasp, jaws nash at thick cuts.
Here nothing go to waist.
Edgar's bitting edge, the horror's rich efficiency plan,
Poe's somber, sober, godforsaken, pecks on busting guts.

Spring Storm

Outside my window deer tromp in the heavy falling snow.
Several dance sideways, a stiff legged bounce and hop.
Young prancers in time with Spring's passion romp.
Waving tail, flag held high, they play in the soft wet flow.

Over the rail fence they leap so easy,
Stamp feet, shaking off a melting cape of white.
My picnic table spread with a heap of apples and corn.
This is April's bounty, the joy of sharing life's horn of plenty.

Freedom's Wings

Strong unbroken wings beat to raw red blood, desire,
With the blessing in freedom's mighty might.
Love life flights to live in peace, this ring true,
Each day fight higher in dreams made anew.

Hold this idea above the tempest, admire,
As wing tips touch the fresh clean air.
Mother Nature calls her mountain Brave Heart's,
Come, make a new world family crew.

Alone In The Night

The streets surrounding the El Capitan Hotel in Merced California are empty. The year is 2098, the month, December.In room 512 a seventeen-year-old girl pecks at a computer keyboard. In the night, strong winds blow sheets of rain on the hotel's fourth floor window. The smell of stale rancid smoke and musty mildew carpet permeate the air. Red neon lights flash through sheer grey curtains.The horizontal slats of dusty venetian blinds are half open.A privy pearl-handled 45 automatic sits next to the computer on a dilapidated oak desk.The girls jaw muscles flex as she grits her teeth and wipes black mascara from pallid cheeks. Her plum coloured spiked hair is only a shade darker than her chewed fingernails.Loud male voices and heavy footfalls are coming down the paint peeled hallway. Bam! Bam! Bam!The heavy metal door rattles on it hinges."Police. Open Up. We just want to ask you a few questions."Looking out the peephole, she sees their cocked guns held low to their sides.One is carrying a short-barreled pump shotgun.Black riot helmets shield their faces.A calico kitten jumps off the bed, and strolls over to the barefoot girl."Trust us. We just want to talk to you." One shot rings out in the darkness... then another.

Captain Björn massive meat hook hands grabbed at empty space where Perry's neck had been a moment before an explosion sent both Captains tumbling down the docking stations hallway. Thick smoke bellowed from the bar area as lights flickered off and on. Knocked to the metal deck by the fierce blast, Perry crawled on his hands and knees several yards to where the hybrid sauropod lay face down. Emergency lights glowed in the darkness. Rolling Björn over wasn't easy, Perry grunted and groaned as he grabbed the big guy's shoulder.

"Now that is a face only a mother could love... Wake up! We gotta get out of this place." Perry screamed.

From what was left of bar lounge, several large cockroach creechers quickly creeped down the hallway toward them. Missing antenna and a leg or two, slowed their lopsided scurry.

Another explosion hurled them passed the now two rolling Captains to splat on the far bulkhead. The smell of fresh bug juice laced heavy in the thick smoke filled air.

Björns eyes fluttered several times before he regained conscious. Staggering to his feet he hissed several superlatives in a language unknown to the civilized populations of most planets. He grabbed Perry by the back of his neck, steering him passed an on coming mob of panicky work crew members Many of the space stations survivors were headed for escape pods.

"Who in their right mind would attack a neutral supply station?" Pierry muttered as the hybrid hairy lizard pushed him through the sliding open hatch of cargo freighter.

"All systems report." Björn growled, adjusting himself in his Captain's chair.

Looking around the ships interior, Pierry questioned his sanity. "This isn't a cargo freighter. This is a ..."

Where's The Airport?

Call me a yellow-belly, and I'll drop a water balloon on yo head.

The Smell of Spring in the Mountains

There is something about the sound of Spring rain on a tin roof.

The warmth of a wood stove as it snaps, crackles, and pops.

The smell of homemade bread, and fresh brewed coffee.

Deer walk safely pass my window.

A pair of eagles circle above the cottonwood trees along the river.

Their high pitched calls a time of thanksgiving.

Winter changes and nest building time is near.

As afternoon light fades to an evening blanket of stars.

Coyotes sing in harmony.

An owl hoots from the tall pine tree.

I cradle my coffee cup, and know what it means to be blessed.