Cannot possibly
see the mountain in the fog...
Summer arrives blazing the blue sky
on his path no cloud dares to stand...
Flora beast
the planter long deceased...
Sometimes,
Clouds are dark ;the burden of stored water...
Ethics
takes a nap...
Through the verdant trails, I climb
To this mountain rock sublime...
Come early in the fall
the iridescence of my life...
The clouds in all their splendor
Weep into the sky...
Mist spits its’ curse, tar-black thick
over the soot covered-shoots...
Completely broke,
an empty glass, wants...
Rain mists onto a moonlit asphalt path
twisting through silhouetted trunks...
A deer eats green grass
as winds sway pastures in warning...