Just published, Book III

SEA GLASS SOUL - Invisible Colors, Poems and Paintings

My poetry and Pat Morgan's art - available at,
The Sea Glass Poetry Trilogy is now complete.

Tuesday, January 22, 2013


An anemic red sun pushed itself
Over the shoulders of the horizon.
I, walking the water-line, my mind unfocused,
Saw a short old man standing like a lawn statue,
Fishing with a kid’s rod, watching the horizon.
He wore a black yarmulke and an oversized
Wool sweater that hung on him
As if there’d been more of him at one time.
I approached.  He turned his head,
Looked at me with dead fish eyes
And turned back to the sea.
I felt compelled to talk to him.

How’s the fishing,” was all I could think of to say.
He shrugged without looking at me and,
With what seemed a German accent, replied,
“Same as usual.  Lousy.”
What are you trying to catch?”
He didn’t respond. I started to repeat my question
When he said, “Lox. I’m trying to catch a lox,
But the bagel is the hard part.”
I laughed. 
“It’s no laughing matter. I’m hungry.”
There are easier ways…” Now looking at me
He interrupted, “You think so. Life isn’t so easy.
You couldn’t understand.”
Maybe not. Try me.”

“When I was seven I watched the Gestapo
Take my parents and sisters away.”
But not you?”
“I was hiding in the cupboard under the stairs.”
He fell silent, then, “I didn’t help them.”
But you were only seven.”
“I heard my mother cry out my name
As they yelled at her to move. All I did was hide.”
But you were only seven.”
“Even a seven year old can hear. Can know.
Can remember.
I should have gone with them.”

Let me take you to the diner.
You can have lox and bagels
And tell me how you survived.”
“Okay, I’ll go with you.
But I’d rather have
A three egg omelet."

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