....and, that's where I found you
asleep on the garden swing...

My frustration weeps
on palette void of colour...

Waltzing copper leaves stir
whimsical notions of...

Anna
Wontons? Not now...

Every day the pulley
would come up or down...

Blustering March wind
turns umbrella inside out...

On summer nights with dusk near nigh
as twilight bathes a yawning sky...

"Mommy, what is to die?"
"To die is to go away&quot...

What do you do...
when laughter no longer wants to live in your...

Bare branches with outstretched limbs reach for...
autumn leaves surround...

A robin redbreast
perched on the watering can...

I once was a tree
now screwed up, frustrated trash...