I don’t understand,

noise and need for chaos

where life lisps at causes,

improving, improved, sensational,

When little is full.


I don’t understand,

missing the quiet rain

tick, tick, tick,

on a quiet November morn,

wetting the ground with fragrance

drifting on.


I don’t understand,

business to no end,

for the sake of time,

sake of appearances

floating in space

like dead planet pieces

stuck in circle motion.



Dave Barber

November Morning!

Coming soon:  A Chapbook!