Mike Berger

My eyes are old.
They are very tired.
They cannot penetrate the twilight.
They've seen the good
and bad and the ugly.
Fiery darts flew in the green silken sky
lighting lonesome stars that hung
like paper dragons.
There Juliet blows a kiss
to a court jester who laughs.
Twisted and gnarled the old pine tree
still clings to mother Earth.
It's arms are too tired to touch
a green sky.
If only there was a pretty face
that smiled; but no.
My eyes are old; it's twilight.
I think I might close
my eyes and slip silently
into the night.

© 2009 Mike Berger. All rights reserved.


Gold Orangutan

Mike Berger

I marveled at the weaver's art.
Polished and smooth; no court
jesters work in this artistry.

His silks are not to make you laugh
or to entertain. That's why he weaves
with silken thread.

Subtle magic spills forth from his work.
He works with dark colors, mostly black.
There is always a brilliantly colored design.

My mind was captured by a piece of
his work. Black silken threads were
tightly woven. There in the dark background
slightly off center was a golden orangutan.

The weaver had outdone himself.

© 2009 Mike Berger. All rights reserved.

About the Author

Mike Berger holds a PhD in Clinical and Research Psychology from Utah State University. He’s the author of two books of short stories, and three of his humor pieces have won awards. His writing has appeared in several journals, including AIM, Still Crazy, First Edition, Stray Branch, Mid West Quarter, Evergreen, and Krax.