The sky is burning
trees are holding strong...
Dormant buds
await fluxing snow...
My coffee may be a little more bitter
(sugar withheld for health and weight...
I wish
I could...
A scented moon caves in
on a tree top...
Sensual eyes
Turn towards...
We went where we always go -
the place where the telephone lines shoot...
My Robin red I now see you,
On barren branch you neatly flew...
An old butterfly wing
entangled in a web...
Save me,
oh watchful master...
Blossomed from a magical crystal weave
Unfurled from a glistened silky demure...
Lay me down upon a riverbed
of memoirs, where melodies...