Seasons in the Corners

A Happy Mom’s Day to anyone out there who’s ever had a mother, or who’s needed one.

four elemental seasons stormin’
in four corners of this
wobbly room,

summer sunburst licks at icy sticks
til they drip into pools of
spring’s floating

once stirred ’round, rise
from beds at dawn as
ripe bouquet of

the more i poke this brain
the more it shrinks in any photo
i heap upon the pyre, and i’m
payin’ more blood with
turnover of each

and flashlight’s been
drained of its
raw power.



Published by grumpygorman

I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...

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