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Three Sonnets

Indictment of a Passive Voice Discussions on our prayer nights confuse As much as clarify how we're to live. One friend asserts our peace demands we sieve Disturbing stories by not watching news. Our world's a bomb tied to a…
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Two Poems by Kenneth O’Keefe

THE GHOSTS OF NOVEMBER Wailing, chilled winds assailed my tortured yard. The leaves spun up from blasted grass like clouds Of crumbling colors, with each swirling shard Of withered leaf absorbed in whirling shrouds. With sudden force the leaves turned…