JD DeHart writes

A Made-Up Place

I’d love to sit
by the old stone wall
I made up once
and roll it away
to find a stairwell
behind, a journey into
a deeper unknown
mystery of my mind,
returning to the core
of who I was, my
smallest form, so that
I might learn something
new for today.

Bom Jesus do Monte, Nogueiró e Tenõe, Portugal

JD DeHart writes

In Crowd

I discover in myself

this startling desire to fit in.

As if I am some teenager

in an afterschool special

or training video. Listen, honey,

don’t worry about those other kids.

I am now looking for a new teacher

than those crowding voices around me.

An inner truth to tether myself

to the world,

eschewing the script, enveloped

in the cotton comfort of isolation.

Crowded 2 -- Helena Cao

JD DeHart writes

SAVAGE

A fur face glances

at me. But there is kindness

there.

Personhood, not just crude

artwork from Mother Nature.

A growl becomes

a compliment. I mutter

a polite reply.

 

Brown Timber Wolf Face --  Jean R Brown