by Warren Gaston | Dec 14, 2023
In the back of the house now summer is where winter has been, I sit in the sun where for months water was ice. Blossoms on stem sticks, shadows under leaves. earth working worms squirming through loam. I have lived in spring’s uproar of green fire, in autumn’s...
by Warren Gaston | Dec 6, 2023
Love me. Make me compulsory in your life. Feel hollow when I am absent, ache when I am angry with you. Care enough to get angry with me. Show concern with my attire when I head for public spaces. May fear grip you when I am sick and anxiety when I am late coming home....
by Warren Gaston | Oct 26, 2023
Adam, gestating in the earth’s mud womb, overheard God say ‘let’ seven times. When Adam rose up from uterine clay, he remembered what he had heard. Then he delighted in what he saw. It gave him a yearning for...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 23, 2023
I stand between my shadow and the sun. My shadow moves. I know I am alive. Or is the sun alive, or both.
by Warren Gaston | Oct 22, 2023
History adheres. The past, sticks fast to the present, as the present clings to the future. The past is not set, it unsettles. Where do you think history goes when it slips over the hill of time? The sun seems to set at dusk only to rise again out of the rut of night...
by Warren Gaston | Oct 16, 2023
He carries the code of eternity in his wallet. Smaller than a credit card, on one side, the face and name of the one who will get us through if we know how to ask. On the other side; how to ask.
