I tell you the ice
upon which you glide is thin...

The mists of our time apart never seem
to clear more than a waterfall of sadness...

This shoe is so small
it can't hold her full spirit...

Multitasking means
cluttering head with so much...

The Red Shift of Distant Lights
Seeking...

I mourn innocence
trapped within my youthful faith...

Suggested presence
blurry smudge drifts in dark field...

Three years after drought
small round pools populate park...

So, shall we ride to adventures,
knights errant...

I’m driving while late
and it seems to me I’ll be...

795, an Ode to Mom and Dad
If I could turn back the calendar...

It rained last night, a long steady downpour;
you have always loved the sound it makes...