• Dear Reader,

    Right now, I am standing
    In my grandparents' old house,
    Admiring the tan shag carpet,
    The way it tangles between my toes,... more »

  • November

    I did not know
    that the street was so brown
    until I saw it today
    nor could I tell... more »

  • Skipping A Stone

    My youth went like the flame at the tip of a match.
    Snowed hills caved in, the beach sands blew away,
    Leaving behind the pleasant smell of sulfur,
    And the feeling that there should have been more.... more »