nick-iWhisper

American

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How we met...We met in February, / snow painted red-bricks looming, / flaring nostrils crisply inhaling;

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UntitledA soft breeze through the thistle field / the beckoning hand of fall / the cows chew their cud:

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A Matter of PerspectiveRaining. Broke. Cold. / Browsing Craigslist jobs. / "Experienced Window Washer Needed"?

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The City BusI gaze across the aisle, / Hoping only for a smile; / Her face, alight,

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TrailblazingThis is my way, not any other, / Though roots and stones yet cling to cover, / Though thirsting, thorny vines yet smother

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UntitledStill Big-Blue circles / His nuclear neighbor, not that any of us / Have ever seen him behind the wheel.

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Dearest SophieRest now, while the drunk world / juggles hammers. Together, / we will await the softer hues.

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