Author Archives: Timothy P. Schilling
Sad pantry
My love for now I leave unsaid
for want of love to back it.
Who robbed my heart of winter store?
Who’ll love for I who lack it?
I Amsterdam
Lone Star
These are the boots
of my justification.
When they strike the dust
what rises will be
the sign of my righting
my long wronging
of myself.
I will do
what I always knew
I would do.
God is bad at justice.
This one’s on me.
Heroes of yesteryear
Sieze the deep perception
Unhook it.
Put it in your basket.
Clean it, cook it.
And dread the day
it works its wonder.
The beer a bear
At wood’s edge.
There was a time
a tossed sandwich
would bring him
straight to the car,
the trunk to him
but a lordly can of beans.
Moss and maple
Trailhead
What goes down
must come up.
But here in me
there’s no guarantee,
just hope in the stream
coursing through the canyon below.




