the drive home
pigeon blanket over trains
clouds fill equinox sky
the road stretches before me
a fire blazes in the city of my birth– we joke about the causal friction of our union (flint and tinder) your voice like chocolate and brandy liquid starshine soft. smooth. strong. (tinder) were you complicit with the fire? you still are with your lips like butter and soft whiskers (tinder) the hills are still…
an old woman in a scarf rocks a baby back and forth in the sunlight a man works a crossword sneaking glances at the pretty baristas Dolly serenades us with her trilling vibrato the steel guitar adding a pinch of melancholy your morning kisses linger on my lips like the scent of flowers everything feels…
I see the Past, Present, and Future existing all at once before me.” – William Blake Today the crocuses opened to the sun like a lover. Today the sun kissed my skin sweetly. Today I ripped muscles and danced with joy. Today I took exquisite care of myself. Today I stayed warm and hydrated. Today…
The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance. -Aristotle I believe this is true for everything in life; I believe every moment is an act of creation with an infinite number of possible outcomes depending on the choices we make. When I create a piece of…
like a hummingbird flitting forward and back sipping the sweetness never still never landing too fast to be captured until she flies into the glass headlong f a l l i n g in the stunned stillness hands reach out holding protecting sheltering feeding (not all hands hurt or capture)