One day, the Dust said to a Broom,
“Love, sweep me off the floor...

As I walk the streets,
and as the sunsets...

A boxer
boxes men...

A cricket
bugs a frog...

while skies cry
puddles gather ‘round...

my week has been a raining day so far
with winds semi-calm and clouds as grey...

Morning sunrise,
You are like cupid...

I was presumed guilty of killing myself...
I lived a life as if I were deceased...

When you read some of my poetry,
I would like you to be...

American Burying Beetle
you are a vulture...

The blues of the oceans are deep.
Many dive into them...

At a village,
An old man said to a young girl...