Treblemaker

There’s a story to tell,

one of dragons and queens.

A story that’s as alluring as a bell —

in the dead of night, when all is not what it seems.

When the stars align, showing the way of the earth,

When the air is crisp,

with a chilly breeze,

fall puts a spell on me.

The leaves fall in a wisp,

as an artist weaves-

a portrait of the fiery sea.

Though, it’s not February,

love seeps through the air.

Autumn leaves flutter around my head,

The color popping in the chilly,

Swirling air.

The veins stretch out,

Delicate within the leaves.

They connect,

as fall starts rolling in

and summer slows to a stop

i like to imagine many things, 

everything, nonstop

i imagine the sweet, sweet song of hooting owls after dark

You are not a number. 
You are not a letter. 
You are not something that can be
 measured 
on a scale 
with a beginning 

My childhood home is filled with plants,

plants that we never water

but are somehow still alive.

Its island is littered with junk mail,

different types of olive oil,

stray flakes of salt,