Walking barefoot, my mother moon stands by,
guiding a cotton whisper slowly...

Igor is dashing
eager to find a mate...

You completed the sentence
that I longed to finally hear...

Tousled hair of a desert
wind, lingers as the pages...

Yule logs, burning flame
spirits of winter solstice...

I pondered thoughts of collaboration
with a hush, hush spirit...

I view the struggles of
a tangled webbed disaster...

The price of age
ways heavily upon...

Canary feathers
scattered in rage of sorrow...

You left me standing alone
under a viaduct freeway...

Blue
skies shine...

The unknown
can be a wicked...