I've sporadically written poems-of-a-sort through this century, and thought I'd start posting some. I won't start out with my favorites, as it will hopefully lower expectations and such. Here's one for today. I believe it was written staring at a Christmas tree.


the popcorn strand

a squiggly row
one row
half-done, alone
amid the light and green.
a splash of
old-fashioned nostalgia
and then- stopped.