Drawing connection circles over timeDifferent shapes and sizesThe ones that come and goThe ones that last a lifetimeAnd the wisdom…
Where is the poem I penned in my youth, misplaced in some file or notebook?
Upon a splintered stone two names were scrawledat dusk, as chilling winds of mourning called,and remnants…
Languish
Somewhere low
in the barb-wire pines