The Storm

Photo A.M.Moscoso

Sometimes the most important



we hear,

that we speak,

that we write


the ones hardest


find, to create, to say

when there is a storm

inside of your head



The Crofter’s Son


My friend Angie Stutting Marcelynas

wrote this Haiku about my wonderful dog, Hamish Macbeth-

If you would like a personalized Haiku AND help out a great lady go HERE


Photo A.M, Moscoso

Of which do we speak?

The crofters son or the beast?

Scratch his back and see

Photo A.M. Moscoso

Who Is She Talking To?

Self Portrait
A.M. Moscoso

Sometimes, you scare me Anita Marie

I have heard from time to to time

mostly at night

just after the Sun has died

for the day.


And I have said

always at night

when the Sun is dead and gone:

”  I scare myself all of the time,

always at night, when the morning is far and the Devils have come out to play.”

Self Portrait
A.M. Moscoso

Spectacular Ruin


In his dreams

she is young and wild

her hair is dark, her body firm

she smells like too much  wine and too much perfume and last night’s lover

who dressed in leather pants and  purple paisley shirt.


A spectacular ruin, she used to call herself all of those years ago.



When he wakes he turns to her

and she to him

and she pushes her thinning hair away from

her cloudy aged eyes

with spotted hands and  hard yellow nicotine stained nails

and he closes his eyes, grits his teeth

and makes himself dream.


Daily Prompt: Lush