she watches him as if the fault were in her eyes poor shorn Sampson withered hands grip the canes that barely hold the frail reflect…
Pappa always told me that you should never tell all you… and I found it to be good advice I recall the time I got back from… with my winter stores back in ‘39
we don’t know who he said he was we came from curiosity and stayed for the inhumanity
surf and turf of St. Andrews olde salts and bullshit under one blue tarp gossip thick as molasses sparks quick as match-lit gas
I am a rock on the shore of the magnificent ocean millions of years by the magnificent ocean and millions more
wind tangled trees coiling across a yellow moon spiraling leaves surf-curled dunes
Early morning mist Loon fishing quiet water Shining wake behind
In the universe Of winking stars is there one Who also wonders?
GRAVE POEM: EDITH MUDGET… How is it that I, who kept my hou… And, indeed, my life, and the live… Of my family, in perfect order; I, who made the beds before they w…
looking at the world through drops of counterfeit lace on the window pane
death is absence of thought - zen how can we be afraid of something we cannot live to experience? it’s life that is frightening
Itistoocoldoutformetodayho waboutucallinsicklikeid coffwenudo
I am a tree beside the water my ancient roots run deep and wide in Mother Earth as one body dies
I saw their faces as clearly as if… on their stones beneath their name… heard their voices in the trees whose roots go deep into their dus… and into the dust of this Island
I’ve known rivers swift currents set free escaping to the brine of the ocean and on to exotic places I’ll never be