a haiku of endings
wind whispers her sweet longing
turgid moon shining
my heart weeps with fresh sorrow
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bare
I read an article recently that recommended walking with bare feet. I’ve been dutifully trotting outside each morning while I wait for my coffee to brew and walking on the little gravel patch on the side of the house. Back and forth. Bare legs. Bare arms. Bare feet. The rocks are hard and cold on…
tomorrow is not here yet
yesterday was a different kind of conversation with petals flying and thunder booming in the end, a soft a rain fell against the night * this morning songbirds are warbling the ancient trees are still and plaintive a jay screeches a call to action as the sky stretches * tomorrow is not here yet
photography | pleasure | truth
the good, the bad and the sexy
Who’s more honest? The womanizer with a bottle of Jack and smoldering eyes or the guy in the corner privately judging him and feeling sorry for himself? I know which one I’d rather take home. Why? Because he lives out loud and isn’t blaming anyone for his troubles. We need to stop labeling people as…
filling my own cup
This is why I wrote you poetry and sprinkled your chest with rose petals. This is why I kissed you in public. This is why I made time to meet your parents. This is why I listened. This is also why I left. As I learn to fill my own cup, I realize why it…