My nature's salad
Is sweet Johnny Smith's...

Walking barefoot, my mother moon stands by,
guiding a cotton whisper slowly...

She whispers tears
within her lines...

Igor is dashing
eager to find a mate...

You completed the sentence
that I longed to finally hear...

Tousled hair of a desert
wind, lingers as the pages...

Digging my nails so deep in desperation
that this gutted twang inside my heart is...

Dusting snow angels
retreat with a fallen pine...

Bones are filled with crackling emotion
suffocating lungs, as if the air isn't enough...

Yule logs, burning flame
spirits of winter solstice...

I pondered thoughts of collaboration
with a hush, hush spirit...

I fumbled through newspapers
like a scorned lover in a panic...