The dry leaves nourish my garden
Why always the sweeping and blowing them away...

We live our lives through different time frames.
Each pertinent, on a personal level only...

Sometimes you need to think in braille
To see what life’s nobly bits are teaching you...

The book of life is perennial as the stars.
Patterns, haunting our every move...

I like being silly.
twisting and mangling words...

All my life I have loved this land
But it is a land in an endless rage...

I got your back you got mine
When times are tight...

Flying through my wall
Jamming up my personal space...

I have no intention, for my words to spark an...
my only wish is to articulate in imagery...

A life here after?
Are we blowing smoke rings in a gale...

she guided my hand
and allowed me to touch the source of life...

Pass me the salt please...