Posts
-
If I remember you
I can't. But if I were to, I'd think of that old snowy hill beyond the library, the one where paths were cut into its snow by our sled. That one hill-- you know? The one bare and eerie this winter, with no sleds to pierce it. . .
-
Wondering
I can’t help Wondering– if the Wondering was born with me.
Or it came to me, spun down from that gnarled, twisted tree.
-
Loves
-
Summer stars
may,
nearly beginning of summerto celebrate, I wear fishnet tights with stars and moons,
a NASA t-shirt,
and a moon necklacenew season of summer, fast approaching
-
To Be a Poet
To be a poet is not to write poems.
No.
Most anyone can do that.
Most anyone has done that,
for school, maybe.
To be a poet is to see a tree
-
Forever Untamed
I see a Soul behind your eyes.
Soulful, and
Wholly Loving.
You sometimes lash out, but
It is not your fault.
You are new to this, and I will
-
Mother Earth
In the cradle of the galaxy’s abyss, we float
Born and aged through evolutions, revolutions
The Earth has been here, and we are passengers on a never ending journey in our orbit round the sun
-
-
