Sunsets are stories.
Can you fit me in, between your jobs?My Mary worth your Martha’s hourA sit down, perhaps for tea around the fire.
Van GoghGauguinPicasso
A question left unansweredfesters in my mind,pinching my insides,causing my heart to burnfrom the acid rain.
Once More On The Road
Early morning forces eyesdown against a darkened dread:an unsettled ache that…
All roads lead back to Tucson,or so a preacher man says,but the ashes of my brother in acremation jar sitting in the shotgunseat —…