Writing

Man at desk with black birds
["Asgardian Seagulls," digital art by cedar, YWP]
  • Welcome To My World

    As a little kid

    People used to tell me

    How they would love

    T0 get in my head

    And see where my

    Questions

    Ideas

    Thoughts

    Answers

    Come from

    I bet they thought it would be

  • This road

    This road starts but never ends

    It has choices but never a decision

    This road loves and never hates

    It continues and never stops

    This road is improvised by all step foot upon it

    It inspires and changes

  • daisies

    You trace the ridges of the flower.

    The sole daisy in this field.

    A dot of yellow against a vibrant green.

    Your toes burrow in the dirt.

    The soil covering your feet.

  • We Grew Trees From Our Bones

    At dusk, the city climbs into trees. Streetlights fold into branches; apartments blink like nesting owls. Commuters dangle from vines in tailored suits, sipping moonlight through trembling leaves. You knock on my bark-body, and I let you in.