I always have a notebook and pen
tucked into my back pocket...
memories with faint
colors paint her thoughts...
a mahogany desk houses the letter you sent
a year ago, sleeping under a blanket of dust...
Skies are so grey.
It is pouring inside out...
you are a constant. you are light. you are
a wellspring of hope. you are on the cusp...
is it the madness of the
artist who is fueled by...
picture this –
you are bound to her...
It’s quiet, but it’s not quiet enough.
She’s listening...
Inharmonic sounds
caressed by whispering breeze...
Music
Underestimates...
Day 365, it’s been one of those days when I have...
Today, I went to the supermarket. I bought fish...
The only lone tree
in citrus garden is the...