when I focus on myself, not others, the benefits flow to sons and mothers.
the darkness did confound.
joy and grief often reside in neighboring rooms
joy and grief collide
maybe someday we’ll get that Right Right.
I, too, have heard the call and understand.
only the long trip finds warm light
It’s time they – we… reinspect the throngs under the steeple.
Strings are for marionettes – Dead – Without a Master to pull them.
Another year – orbit the sun. Same as the ones I’ve muddled through?
dark and light near all along.
That’s all I have to say about that.
I remember an uncle, who left this earth as I arrived.
can one night do?
Shit happens. If you don’t believe that, you aren’t paying attention.
Finding good in the bad. That’s my new hobby.
Now, we go inside to experience the past painter’s present.
sanctuary should always be wherever we find ourselves…
“I’m old enough; I know it all,” she stated; “Not numbers, books, but ways of love and living.”
A bad day for the poet