an august afternoon
in the distance a mower drones its low rumble. from my bedroom window all backyards seem vain. a murder of crows land...
it passes you by
beneath wrought iron lamps the red brick street glistens from a cool drizzle. with each passing step my warm and familiar bar...
goodbye, my indigo
indigo fades into pale yellow moment by moment, degree by slightest degree — and beneath an empty firmament devoid of dreams perhaps...
from the outside (in)
perhaps most days pass by seamless and without release but do you ever wonder how to reach the heart of passion and...
a recollection
if given a reason or forced by chance and circumstance i can still recollect with camera-like precision a single tear rolling cool...
last night
her parting words hang heavy in the air as the car door slams shut. through its open window you watch as she...
on a melancholy angle
early morning rays break the horizon with earnest anticipation of what might come to pass, while soft and subtle colors are bleached...
a visitor
just now — a lone hummingbird at the back door checking to see if i’m done with morning coffee, or perhaps nothing...