While you drift quietly to sleep i feel in time when your absence will leave a hole.
If you hear my name after an evening autumn rain, it’s because i am cedarwood incense and frog […]
Sometimes I might buy an onion, or two, just to have out on the counter-top. Ode to the […]
The author is a poem and the poem is a blank page.
O! to the bee a clover in September : a sacristy
We are the culture to one-up each other. We are blessed, let us rest. ¥ This poem came […]
While driving a co-worker asks, if you could live for a thousand years, would you? No, I say, […]
I poke holes in a cloudless sky with words. Holes in her. Holding her. I will be buried […]
I divide myself, so I can punish myself, in order to create my Self.
Of the two giant Douglas-firs that are on either side of the church I take my dog to […]