Winter came early
to the low country...

You always had me
scratching at the dirt...

Wondering if my words are ever coming back...
relishing the day when I can put more than a...

I no longer
end my calls...

I miss the night sky...
The real sky at night...

Oh you were big!
A head the size of a mack truck...

Sweet baby bird
with your wings burned black...

Deep forest green gives way
to natures soft subtle hues...

You were my first,
you have been the only...

I wish the world
was not so cold...

We all learned
to build bridges...

Mystical, maddingly crazy
other times...