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Sometimes you just need to let it go Let it flow or you’ll blow Write it down and then you know You got it! Shall you share or keep it tight Hold it until the time is right Mull it around inside your head Change it yet again! All at once you know it’s done Push it out and wait for some Remarks, applause and likes This is why you write!

They tore down the bricks, you know. I was there and watched it go. It became part of the past, How I hoped that it would last. And yet, history moves on, What's once here will soon be gone, All that we think is here to stay, Will too be torn down someday. • Donovan Baldwin

We are dreamers, you and I, Word weavers in moonligh. We wander together in Changing of the dusk and dawn, 'Neath the raised blessing or The prairie wind, Sung to us By bird and breeze and Singers which we heard A million years ago when we, Were destined to meet By gracious gods. • Donovan Baldwin

Connections are so strange. Walking on a cold morning, I smell wood smoke. Someone nearby has a fire in their fireplace. I look at chimneys seeking the smoke, And, though I see no smoke, I see all the other fireplaces I have sat before. My boyhood home in Florida. Another where I sat one night, Smoking cigarettes, Drinking beer, and... Writing poetry. Several in homes now far behind me, With their memories... Some good, some bad, But mine. Memories made of chimneys And anonymous Wood smoke. • Donovan Baldwin

As war unfolds Death and pain Spill onto my screen Onto innocent faces Soldiers and militants Kill any person Indiscriminately Leaving empty faces Families in anguish Beseech the watchers To intervene Heartbroken faces World leaders make speeches Promises made While suffering continues  Face of terror Critics smear and geer Bolstered by politics Loudly commenting Ugly old faces Parents trying to explain How men destroy And people die  Sad faces Horrible scenes Replayed at nauseum Desensitizing us  Blank faces

There's whispers on the wind, Telling me it's gonna snow. There's many miles to travel. God! I hope it isn't so. I've not yet seen a rabbit, Or quail, or rat, or deer. The sky is going grayer, I begin to taste the fear. Better men than me have died Too far up this slope. Damn. Those clouds look heavy. I'm quickly losing hope. The wind tells me it's coming I've not a single doubt. Tho' I'm moving when it hits I know I'll never make it out. My little cabin's bitter cold But, not as cold as death. If I get there before the storm... God! I ache with every breath. So wild and pretty way up here Even storms have beauty rare. If you ever read this warning, friend, Plan your pack with care. These high, green meadows lead you up Below their caps of white. Then, the winds begin to blow And snow blots out your sight. A deadly warmth begins inside As dreams begin to roll, While amid the awful beauty, You surrender to the cold. Another day they'll find you there Upon earth's icy breast, And those who call you "kin" or "love", Curse the call that drew you west. But, one day when this world turns green, When it's hard to think of doom, My shade will tread the trail it loved As the mountain flowers bloom. That final image in my mind, I write these lines and rest. Perhaps they'll save another, The last hope within my breast. • Donovan Baldwin

He writes just one more poem. Alone with himself and his words He composes a love song, a sonnet, An unstructured piece of Poetic prose, hoping that These words, this poem-like Gust of words will touch her, Sway her, arouse her to Notice him, to understand, The love he can only share Through the message held In the mad words clamoring To leave his mind and touch her. • Donovan Baldwin

My reality is work and wife And mother too But in the dark I belong to you Mighty poet in the mist Writes with magic And words that twist Into sweet promises