.Ancient forest-
wood and stone.
A doorway open,
a boy alone.
Summer's slumber,
a feathered choir.
Comparing her
to stars on fire.
Cracked clay horses,
a dried lagoon.
A place to sit
and talk to the moon.
Sweet Spanish moss,
roots in the sky.
Not suitable to climb-
I'll never fly.


"You cannot save shadows for a rainy day."-redbarchettadrive ♥.

To usher in
the wind of change,
you have to make room--

you must rearrange.

To slumber in fields
way down by the sea,
to be haunted by the scent
of sweet ambergris.

Where the tolling
bells of time will mend
those long, lost hours
when you needed a friend--

they will resonate with
reason until the end.

Go ahead and reach
for every star in the sky,
don't ever get hooked
on Who? How? or Why?

When you open your sails--

your dreams are in reach.
Ships are made for the ocean,
not for the beach.






.

"Where are your gloves?"
A man with watery blue eyes,
And steaming black coffee asks me.
I almost cannot hear him over the brutal wind,
The city taken by storm.

He leans closer and whispers,
"They are giving some away,
Under the bridge."
As if I know exactly which bridge he is speaking of.

Winking,
He continues past me on the street.
Homeless,
But fortunate in his kindness.