See Dick. See Jane.
Run Dick. Run Jane.
Run. Run. Run.
Run you fools. Run.
“What do you think?”
“Amusing … and clever.”
“I thought so too. Clever though … more than amusing.”
“Oh well …”
“Recess is over, Mister Author.”
“Back to the novel?”
“Back to the novel.”
James F. Ross
“I’m at a disadvantage.”
“Well, hey … I’m at a crossroads, Briget’s in a tizzy, and Pete’s not really with us.”
“He’s sitting right beside you.”
“No. Not really. He’s actually incognito. So …”
“Just do your best to go along with the delusion. To ignore him is to know him.”
“Sounds kinda sad and pathetic.”
“It empowers me,” Pete replies.
“Who said that?”
“Not me,” answers Pete.
“Mystery and intrigue, cleverly written of course, are entertaining. On the other hand, deception within secure confines drains marrow and meal … a potent poison similar to hemlock’s poorly dressed sojourn into shadow.”
“If the chicken’s too spicy, just tell me.”
“It might be a tad over the top.”
“A smidge … that’s all.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
“I do. What’s this wonderful…
Leaning against time
Days end reverently captured
Dreams await the night
Beautiful memory treasured
Shared before the morning light
A Tanka Poem
Santa Cruz…1.6.2011 Gentle Is the Night Gentle is the night that fades Emerging from your day and soon into mine…
A Simple Gesture A wave, a sign, a nod, a simple gesture Morning fog rises As does my confidence James F. Ross
She sees him
A shy blue-eyed grin
Wearing faded gray
Willowed cotton in a breeze
He sees her
A sunset blush
Silken diaphanous curves
Dancing into the night
The laughter, I can still hear. Close my eyes and mine your expression with ease. Complete surrender to a moment longed and pined, arrested away by amusement and unbridled, malicious, rejection.
James F. Ross
Love, profoundly expressed; smiles and reassurances abound. Sacred words shared in a compassionate, deafening, whisper; and yet… “…the smoothest and roundest stones” continue to be chosen.