oh creature of dust
sing while you may
- a moments breath

fragile as grass
gone in an instant;
the blinking of an eye.

just a few hundred feet and its all blue-
beautiful blue above all cloud-
warm blue infusing Winters grey.

who can plumb the depths of the heart?
make sense of suffering?  and more
the suffering inflicted by another's hand?

my mood is always the same
love all the way
burn to light
die like the candle with a purpose fulfilled.

I talked with Don Quixote today.
It was a fruitful discussion.
So fruitful that it made my mind go haywire.
*
At last
I began to think
That the limit of insanity is not in the mind
But in the will.

The dust mites like to eat.
The moths like to feast.
I tried to feed them
I tried to give them.

Glory, glory, glory
can you make the gory sight go away?

The mice trickled down my spine
and every time the sound of wet
chewing of paper wrappers under
the counter, I cover my ears.
I can't face the sob story.

You, with your mask, so sly,
Return only when I've said goodbye.
When I'm fine, standing tall and true,
You reappear, like a ghost, out of the blue.