Storm
in the pre dawn hours
the sounds of distant thunder
lull me back to sleep
–
a hard rain
drumming on
rhododendrons
in the pre dawn hours
the sounds of distant thunder
lull me back to sleep
–
a hard rain
drumming on
rhododendrons
brief is our passage
across the river of time
into the unknown
–
oak saplings
from acorns
never unearthed
dealing with the grief
of saying goodbye to you
for the final time
–
rest
at last
in peace
coruscating veils
of yellow, purple, and green
midnight in Norway
–
pebbled skin
perfectly
camouflaged
these poorly built walls
of isolationism
so easily breached
–
a spreading oak
the cat awaits
her safe descent
the rain’s heady scent
rolls in on the thickened air
of the coming storm
–
hummingbirds
weave the air above
a honeysuckle vine
no matter how far
the vanishing road takes me
I always return
–
nirvana awaits
yet I’m not
quite ready
black and blue and bruised
pinned to the ropes but fighting
for our very souls
–
a hard rain
drenches all
with no regard
when I’m in shadow
you pull me into the light
and show me the sun
–
old driftwood
a salamander
basking
long flowing tresses
cascade down from her shoulders
swirling at her feet
–
running
fast and free
into the future