In the warmth of the concrete cracks
A note was left for a distant generation
Written in the baking crust
But the letters were scrambling ants
Beneath the eyes of our rubber souls
A wave surging, roaring for order
Offhandedly crushed by the crumbling cliff
We kick errant pebbles off the path as we leave
To twink into the shadowy gaps
And blot all words from beneath the heavy sun
Monday, July 27, 2009
Fatherhood
I am carrying the torch you Handed me Not handed. Placed Carefully This is sacred space. Was the carrying so heavy for you as well? Were yo...
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It must have been love That sort of thing Can't be mistaken For a lesser set of feelings It has a special hat And makes you welcome at p...
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She shares the blame For Adam's fall So secure, attractive Brilliant in a certain view The essence of Enlightenment I see her raise her ...
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I’m tired I’m tired of my heart giving out Whenever it gives in That things being the same Never makes a difference Of looking forwards to s...
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