
absinthe
rainstorm
snapdragons
sun tea
barcelona
bóta
graphite
ancestor
amber
arsenic

absinthe
rainstorm
snapdragons
sun tea
barcelona
bóta
graphite
ancestor
amber
arsenic

on a misty morning, i was missing you–
but you were miles and miles away

birds, butterflies and ladybugs,
cicadas, moths, bees, wasps and bats,
ideas and airplanes,
dragons, dragonflies and dreams

the wind blew the buds from the bushes,
blew the rain horizontally,
blew the cobwebs from the balcony
and the fear from fragile minds

some questions have no answers

the thunder rolled over the hills as the rain pelted us with fat water bullets, bending and suspending themselves like wet, safety nets

it wasn’t what you said, it was what you didn’t say

when i see a small rabbit or a buck with five or six does, a mountainside blanketed in fog, a delicate sunflower or the soulfulness of a long river valley, a wistfulness overcomes me


inevitable decay–
in all of its tender beauty

a ship in a bottle
a small cabin hidden in a forest
a garden maze
a swing in the living room
a friend that is also a crow
a crystal ball
a bridge to another time
a ride on a paper airplane
a conversation with shadows
a working fireplace
a happy ending