Foreboding stature,
            cryptic tattoos adorned
upon rough terrain..

Others whisper with content,
             as children run
He grabs them delicately and smiles.

*"A fathers love shines.

I have to be honest somewhere,
might as well be here
I get the feeling sometimes
the end is drawing near,
I hear it in your hesitation
and the way you're quick to go,
don't try and tell me one thing
when inside, you know I know
I hate to materialize this in the world
but I can't hold on to it anymore,
I'm scared you'll never really change
and by tomorrow, it'll have replayed
that same little mistake,
the one we all make
you know the one I'm talking about,
don't you?
I do

.
Gentle sounds that jar as fog rolls in—
Blue Jays knock and forage in the leaves,
Days turn to nights in a cold winter rushing,
Atop a hill overlooking my disappering village,
Darkness is expected as always unwelcomed,
My guest that will not— not come— as I wait,
To hear the lone emptiness of a fog horn blow
From out there, incoming, pray old harbour
Bay. Is it an omen of souls landing or lost?