Magic leaps like bunnies from the grass blade stubbleson grandfather mushroom…
A poem
Drip, then drip, drip.Sun, always our friend, beating down, happy.Watch you wither.Wither under the sun.It might…
Foretold by summer,winter’s edge in dialect, fall meets fulsome…
The rooks are calling, scrawling across the sky Blustering in black drifts Surfing the funnels…
Enslaved by captivated emotions, passion entails,concerted efforts at continuing what was never there…