Which is the greater pain; memory or reality? What happens when both of them are true ?
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Memories are stars
that spin in constellations
of loss and pain. They are gone.
They are here.
Hair on a teenager's thigh
Red bean bag chair
in the loft of a garage.
Gush of light through a window
with no pane. Falling like diamonds
from the crook's caught hand.
(Self-published. Please contact author directly to order.)
Enter the pages of diaspora in quiet introspection. Bathe your thoughts with subtle humor; synchronize your spirit-sense with history-in-heat; fall headlong with eyes wide open into
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Ron