Memories watercolored across blue skies, savored views that grow fonder with age

Fragrance’s fingertips fall softly upon rose petals, a concerto that moves with the breeze

Silhouettes dance undetected in the shadows, private celebrations not for public view

Joys of living condensed inside myself, life inhaled then exhaled into the wind


Penciled life lines smudged in the middle

A sequence of dreams scattered on the cutting room floor

Broken scents, delayed by the wind, drifting beyond reach

The hush that forgiveness provides after the storm

Pathways through the budding groves after the rain

Teardrops of forgotten summers, dried by the touch of the sun

We forgot the reason we came, troubled journeys come to an end

Breezes Stir Embers

Burnt edges bring no sorrow

Charred pages lie in wait, in calm

Holding on without rush, nor hurry

No reason to flake and fall

Breezes stir embers, it can’t be helped

More comfort found in stillness than in ardor

But this is how it goes

In life, in love

For love of life

This is how it goes


Compressed weight dissolves, yet contours remain

Yesterday’s imprinted curve, a travel down accelerating valleys with slow ascents

Level ground eventually reverts back, as if a butter knife slowly spreads sanity across my thoughts

At least until tomorrow, or the next time the ground moves beneath my feet

Layers evolve, differing colors, textures, depths, one on top the the other

Some blend in a comfortable embrace, others distance themselves, seeking a necessary solitude

A patchwork of what was, what I am, each a tree ring of the past, hidden within

Charcoal Twists, Sweet Lies

Broken sleep spills cloudy tides, unseen submerged bridges

Stepping out, braving waves of uncertainty and fear

White wash fingers reaching out, hesitation’s touch felt

Yet I go forward 

Blowing dust off yesterday’s moments, darkness within, not without

Etched trails on maps of where I have been, not where I go

The taste of charcoal twists and sweet lies, difficult telling one from the other

Still I go forward 

Unfinished Wind Chimes

Summer guests, hidden in dark rooms

Invisible lens caps covering both eyes

Hitchhiking without thumbs, following uncertainty

A graft of my imagination, melding with what I don’t see ahead

Dragonfly gazes, falling over winter

Unfinished wind chimes that lie in wait

Tomorrow’s dreams, untethered, floating away

Drifting past clouds, out of sight but not of mind