Your silhouette in the doorway is a light shining from within you to inside of me. Your arm raised in greeting is strength to my tired arms.
I am finding I am going home if I haven’t in some measure found the landing port that is in sight of my true and original self
The unheard wisdom, the unseen beauty, the unfelt comfort: the three great curses of a deaf, blind, and unfeeling age.
rancid rantings/burning anger/stin… fear/hope—strobe—love/abhorrence—t… nihilism coffee/whiskey/cigarettes—no comfo… plans with no point/guns with no c…
There is space around the moon tonight, white, bright, lighting t… like cardboard cut-outs on a half-… "You are very beautiful, tonight", he says, and the breeze…
I think you’d been drifting away from us, even before you ended up in this sterile hospital bed. But you seem to have caught
My son’s cleaning up his room and I’m not really glad. He’s cleaning up his room and it’s raining clothes and crock… The washer’s running amok, the dis…
We had and ibis summer where the b… was picked at disconsolately by th… where the trees stood stoically in… in their drawing of water from dee… to store in their trunk, branches…
Blessèd be the better days and the bitter ones that outline t… In an entirely non-Biblical fashi… blessèd be the bees that buzz and… frantically flitting from flower t…
My cardboard sign carves out a tiny piece of footpath to call h… My cardboard sign shamefully decla… “homeless” and I look down a t my… as you stride past, reading but no…
The struggle seems as blind as our dark evolutionary past, as hypocritical as a politician on… as tiring as a hundred mile sprint… I no longer have any energy.
The morning brings the cockatoos clicking and clattering on the rai… waiting for the morning feed, eyeing off the company, non-human, just birds. Light yellow crowns
Seattle taught me that there’s val… that hovers in the air like an am… with no substance, playing harmle… on your face and in your hair. Seattle taught me that there’s imm…
The fall of the leaves of autumn carpet our path, making mud like blood underfoot. Or is it blood like mud
I dream of Washington or a place… I dream of a place where the sun i… and the rain is sweet, where the w… of the trees is old and guarded, t… the floor of heaven.
