Current poems I have written

My sixty year old plant is desperate for light It is mid-January and very short days are are depriving it of its live-giving sun light Living in a human house, always under unnatural circumstances and lighting

All under the shade occluding of a roof It reaches out from its dark corner in every direction that offers any solar sustenance In The nearest window is helter skelter with leaves Leaves piled up on top of each other

Catching every glint of possible sunlight like like the dark shade of a climax forest

Bill Bruneau