What is this snow falling from the skies unknown, melting in my palms shaped like…
I am sat by the dayflower. One that looks like a butterfly, has two pastel blue wings, trunk of yellow blooms, with limbs of growth.
After a long sleepI wake up by the clear, blue ocean,
What does it mean to say time does not come in little boxesone after the otheropened like presentsin the instance…
a poem about drought and drivel
I was here, this Niagara picture could be mine,I was here,thrice in this life…
Your voice haunts me.
My aching for you is like a hint of perfume on a stranger’s neck that sends me -for a moment- back…
mind drift, shallow breathing,then the soul shiftsparallel through the sun-lit, shadowy slitsof blindsblurry vision, a slow-motion slew…
what does the seekerseek