The sea whispers to me in my sleep
Calls me son
Wants me home
An Evening Out
Once again we take a dip
Into this awfully filled up night
Where thoughts don’t colour the darkness,
Each night can’t paint the moon.
Emerson On Self-Reliance
Trees stand. The path goes down
And disappears. It cannot be
That I stand here yet watch it wind
I must go down and walk behind.