A bee finds the lone flower in a field of weeds, a patch of sunlight slants its way into the deep forest and a cellist’s bow finds exactly the right note.

I presume to tax my unexcused absences. I hide in my hoodie. I miss game nights that bond people. I glob on crazy glue. I hand-write fluorescent encouragement and decorate tenderness with stickers.

We go on straining to hear above the lamentations celestial music, intent on rising above the burden of fatality and grief.

In the sins of my youth three patterns emerge

you will change every day –

Time splices our years together in quirky remix

She was  young, strong, undone.  I could just imagine how you tipped  your glasses to each other

by Kenneth Reimer Eagle’s flight at dawn – the sleepy boat shakes droplets of night from its sails.   Kenneth D. Reimer lives on the...

      this sudden burst of life, verdant and alive,    as if unable to wait       the celebration

Dusk on the Island and I look east to the mainland coast.

Your hands, the rough and calloused ones that worked great wonders feeding thousands, healing blind and palsied poor.

I liked to hide beneath the catalpa tree on the terraces behind my house. Its huge, heart-shaped leaves hid me.

Spinning Earth and Moon shift us from light to shadow and pull the swollen water back high onto the shores of Western Bay.

She holds the brush like a hammer pounding her vision like nails to wood while colours howl and cry on the canvas.

smiling with lipless mouths, winking with lidless eyes their brittle bones clacking and clattering in an ancient percussive rhythm

Death's route is serpentine, winding in and out of dreams and memories like a river moving across the land.

You asked where God is and meant it as sincerely as your nightly request for a glass of water by the bed.

Bid me come, and free my feet...

Morning swells like a leaven as I follow my hunger

He observes every ant, every roly poly, every gnat. A rock is an occasion.