Poetry: Expectation

some nights are still
so quiet
not even the hum of street lights
are heard
as if expecting the morning
and the day it holds

Poetry: I.L.L.

I.L.L.

I love Lucy
and you have some explaining to do,


I live long time
indeed Ill never die,


What is ill?
Its like light
hidden in plain sight.


Ill never change,
until the last L becomes U.


ILU, Elihu, Hallelu