Poetry in Blood
Shopping During an Epidemic
The boy remembers his father while walking in the snow
Richmond's Fair Square
Decades
Bourbon Street Detritus
Rows of Tight Gold
That drive, when we had it
Sights
Grey concourse, your plane glides, to the stay
Nairobi
Benign for Grey
Graffiti Stains
Ode to Emerson’s Self Reliance
Jerusalem, My Dear
Treacherous Roads
Poem from long ago . . .
Poetry is a slow passion.
Small Hands Forget
Dirty White Leather
