Hymns Of The Birds

One god
must be good
as another -

the hymns
of the birds
never change.

Toe

I stubbed
my toe
on the mountain.

The sky wept
for the stone.

The Troubadour

Play quick when it's early
and feet are fresh.
Play loud when the drink
starts to flow.
Play soft as the candles
are all burning down.
Play a love song when it's time
to go home.

Lady Liberty

Lady Liberty,
come down
like Moses
from the mountain
and trade your torch and tablet
for a baby on your hip.
His tiny slip of a mama
left two dead kids
in Guatemala
a thousand miles behind her -
for this?

In cages and detention,
Lady Liberty,
can you see them,
beggars for asylum,
for the least that we can give -
the tired and huddled masses
need you now,
New Colossus;
come down
like Moses
and remind America
who she is.