Heart shivered
as jack frost...

I thought
long ago, that rivers...

There are days when words
go bumper to bumper with...

Upon silken grass
blades reaching high as the sun...

Lounging upon a bed of moss,
underneath an abandoned tree...

As I vision human kindness
along roads of vacationing...

Drums beating within
fingers typing...

I press my nose to a
window sill, kissing nature...

If sun comes for me
with arms wide open...

Free writing saved my soul
as body nestled...

Horrible faces haunt me as
voiceless memories float around a...

Gray Spanish curtains
hanging...