Crawling to the treeI tread lightly in tall grass dreading the creature's hissing rasp with the setting sun behind my backCrawling to the tree
I stand frozen in this place my apprehension on display knowing my actions decide my fate
I was wishing I could fly as my companion passed me by and said with a sigh to "just walk"
So I took his advice and I conquered my fear only then did the Serpent choose to appear
untitled 12-6-09With bleary eyes we seek the orange and purple splendor that spills westward down the drainuntitled 12-6-09
In our desperate race to hold one last dying ember we hardly notice the ebon tide seeping in at the corners
But twilight's chilling touch relieves our calid zeal and only once the light has gone are all the stars revealed
a signa cream cheese danish of sortsLife is an estranged crème brulée, or Perhaps a domino masquerade. The heart is anthracite; the mind's a swirl And it's addled by Asian nightshade. When the sun goes down, consciousness wanes And sleep arrives, dripping with nostalgia: Haze-ridden dreams of tricycles and swing chains.a cream cheese danish of sorts
The PondThe man stared darkly into the pond; leaning, listening, and quiet. Teetering over submerged fronds; the crickets, the willows, the sight.The Pond
The moon laid on his shoulders broad; slumping, sorry, not a single sigh. Skyward he set his face so flawed, not even God watched him die.
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