Lounging upon a bed of moss,
underneath an abandoned tree...

As I vision human kindness
along roads of vacationing...

Drums beating within
fingers typing...

I press my nose to a
window sill, kissing nature...

If sun comes for me
with arms wide open...

Free writing saved my soul
as body nestled...

Horrible faces haunt me as
voiceless memories float around a...

Gray Spanish curtains
hanging...

Echos from a choir of nuns
can be heard from a convent down...

Death is the calling of a childhood friend
or a neighbors father, chilling sound...

Marigold flowers
adorn...

Collaboration by Star and Maple Tree
She's a wild soul...