On summer nights with dusk near nigh
as twilight bathes a yawning sky...

Winter
cold and frosty mornings...

Day fades to hues of dusky pinks
over mountains where shadows deep...

This is who I am...
my hands tremor to the point...

"Mommy, what is to die?"
"To die is to go away&quot...

A snow-pregnant sky,
threatening to give birth...

You said you saw me waving
from across the crowded bistro...

Shivering heather
awaken to misty moors...

Delicate buds will never bloom
roots too young to stand alone...

And...
as a rusting boat slouched sulkily...

Late summer evening and you are late
moments spent waiting are lost moments...

Silvery tangles frame
a face spun with spider threads...