Richard Dinges, Jr.

Askance
 
Legs tucked beneath
you, hidden in cushions
in a corner of the couch,
your face glows the gray
of a tablet screen.
You do not look at me,
A shadow passes
across the room, follows
sun rays until dusk
dims window panes.
I am absorbed
into corners and you
turn out the lights
to leave me behind
another piece night.



Ray
 
Each day at sunrise
I search for a pattern,
where light hides behind
clouds or lies in dappled
patches across waves
of dead grass, where
I can capture
a single ray
in my palm,
cup my hands together
and imagine I race
through time ahead
of what lies to either
side of me, to look
back and forward at once,
then open my palms
to an eternal sky
and release the final
vestige of what
I hope to become.

Richard Dinges, Jr. works on his homestead beside a pond, surrounded by trees and grassland, with his wife, two dogs, two cats, and five chickens. Oddball, Schuykill Valley Journal, Grey Sparrow, Wilderness House, and Illuminations most recently accepted his poems for their publications.