Drops of falling rain,
Waiting, outstretched tongue.
Desperately seeking my
The past is a guide;
A companion who leads you
Into the future
The night air’s cold hand
reaches down and pulls my breath
in shards from my chest.
Crimson clouds hang low.
The day’s embers glow softly,
burning down to dusk.
I go to freeze on dark tides
I wake before three.
for another’s riches
Waves, softly lapping
Dappled light wanders.
Across the lush, verdant grass
A lone sandpiper Sings his call into the wind Out across the shoals
Salt hangs in the mist The bell from a channel buoy Guiding me back home
A lazy Sunday You, dozing on the white couch Lovely as ever
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