Sunday, December 30, 2007

The kind of clear winter day
When air seems unrealistic.
Only nothingness could be so transparent.

Tuesday, December 18, 2007

Weary from the outside in
from sagging limb to lagging soul
every fiber and nuance of my being seeks
a green pasture
a quiet water
a moment to be refreshed.

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Tonight the clouds are made of molten lava
rippling toward the horizon
trying to defy the chill of dusk
which inevitably overtakes them
cooling their passion to a steely blue-grey.