Fly away

I wish there could have been
some way to keep you here
But you had to spread your wings
to test how far you could fly
and you were gone

I only hope that some day
you might fly back to us
to have another stay

I’ll think of you as you journey
and hold the memory of your smile close
for when I need a lift up there
in the heavens with you


This poem appeared originally in Across the Margin. I didn’t write it as an elegy, but it could be; an old friend died suddenly the other day and  this poem went through my head.




©Daniel von der Embse

The talented Mr. Brown


In my other life, I’m an advertising copywriter. Recently, I had a lot of fun working on a video project for the Mail Handlers Benefit Plan (MHBP). It was also a chance to work with my longtime colleague and friend, the very talented Dick Brown. Dick is something of a legend in Utah advertising. He graciously came out of retirement to be the talent in this funny online video. Singing and performing has long been a sideline for Dick; many years ago he performed with The Young Americans and toured with Johnny Mathis. Thanks Dick, you are a lovely guy and made this a fun project.

Only a pony — The Moon Issue 1209

the moon

Thank you to The Moon monthly e-magazine for publishing my poem Only a pony in issue 1209.

You can get a copy of The Moon Issue 1209 here.

Only a pony

You tell me it’s only a pony
I watch you ride him, fearlessly,
like when you were a child,
filling me with dread that he
should have such power over you,
hateful creature, made for mayhem,
bone crushing, unpredictable

On his back rides everything,
and means nothing to him
You say to trust you
I do –
but trusting him comes hard
Better to tell myself
it’s only a pony
I look away –
It’s only a pony



©Daniel von der Embse

No sympathy

The knee I should have had
replaced tells me to suck it up
as I stagger over cobblestones
that mock me with taunts
about stronger men than me
they’ve taken down:
medieval giants, their joints
ground down to bone meal –
left aching, no painkiller
except for drink and ultimately,
death, to deliver them —
until then, no sympathy





©Daniel von der Embse