Our eyes meet Through a cool Dark air Within a pause Of forgotten Something And somewhere And sometime With someone Forever removed In the last
Forsaken Flames
A free verse echo Wrapped in tinder Awaiting the flame Of a lucid dream Walls padded Crippling overtones Now cascade To canyon walls As the
Mother, We Are Sorry
Born of our arrogant indignation We wake from the ashes A first breath, cold with remorse In the afterbirth, we search For one last drop
Flicker
The lamp flickers As it burns through The last of the oil Outside, snow falls A log on the fire I pretend it’s you Covering
Of Prophets and Rivers
I sat with an old man on a weathered bench near the bank of a section of river most don’t come to anymore. He welcomed
Thank You & Shameless Self-Promotion
I wanted to thank everyone who has purchased my book(s) over the past two weeks. Your support means more to me than I can adequately
