Every night,
I swam in waves of dreams...

In the kitchen, a bowl so dull
with an owl in a pole, the color of coal...

Poetry
By writing you...

I miss you like petals misses the stem.
Without you, I have no roots, no place to bloom...

Today, I'll write just to write like I often do
with my eyes close and my fingers on the keyboard...

It’s been a while...
my eyes have gotten used to seeing...

I thought my thoughts were clear
like rivers flowing with streams...

Contractions keep on going past due date
Baby should be here any moment...

If tomorrow I am gone by morning
Like the moon does every now and then...

Like leaves in oaks, I'll learn to fall
from branches short or from to tall...

A constant poetical struggle
is to stroll through barren, forsaken stations...

So far the waters of my life became somewhat...
But lately, they sway from side to side...