Solace

Words linger unsaid;

no compulsion to fill space.

They are seen in eyes,

the way the head leans to one side;

half-breaths hang luxurious,

simply for the pleasure of it.

Natural rhythms weave calm;

lull without inflection or solution.

We do not rely on talk;

ours is a contented silence,

not at all awkward.

tk/February 2015

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Simplicity

If you look close enough
a garden becomes a meadow,
walls give way to windows.

A magpie watches from the edge,
jaws at anything complex.

It is time to throw out mismatched socks,
the king-size that never fit;
stuff the cache in yesterday's hamper,
unfence simplicity.

We find beauty in clothespins, hairpins,
a line swaying behind a dryerless nest.
The wet towel we share.


tk/January 2015


A rare glimpse of R.A.D. Stainforth in color...his most beautiful read to date...

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