There's a path
that meanders...

As there he vanished to the night
A zephyr wafting through the mind...

Bend the knees, lower the butt
To pick up that penny, the only thought...

Yesterday the first nasturtium blossom of the...
burst forth. A glorious, mind-bending...

Only a sapling to guard two cold stones
When she first knelt on this hateful hill...

I stalk the aisles for a magic potion
A mask, a cream, a wonder lotion...

Shadows fall 'cross canyons deep
Dregs of day in ghostly garb...

I am the sentinel on the untried path.
I hear the song of all mankind...

She stands before her mirror
A woman well past her prime...

Speak not of that which might have been
Not Summer's kiss, nor Winter's bliss...

He sits atop his literary throne
built from junkyard treasures...

Sandstone monuments rise
above the valley floor...