Sitting here all alone,
the last few sun-rays drop.
When I look up,
you face serene.
Spared by autumn twilight.
I find myself, as simple
as a moth might be.
Gazing at the
morning-glories.
But slowly, slowly.
Not alone anymore
A Wandering Poet
As I walk around I like to record what I experience. Through poetry, ideas and thoughts I hope I can share some of these experiences with you.
A Wandering Poet 