This winter
the sky is cold white...

that boy you called a twig
was the compass who guided me home...

Title: A Heart that plays with fire
a ribbon laced around a pony tail...

If you say you love me dear
Then I need no diamond ring...

Something is Off and it’s not the light.
The room is illuminated...

while skies cry
puddles gather ‘round...

my week has been a raining day so far
with winds semi-calm and clouds as grey...

Tomorrow a flower grows
in fields of sorrow, fed by shadows of an Oak...

Your love is spiral like a stair.
I climbed my thoughts, step by step...

American Burying Beetle
you are a vulture...

At a village,
An old man said to a young girl...

In the kitchen-
Fingertips trace ashes splattered over counters...