Awake at night –
the sound of
a paradise flycatcher.
Cracking in the cold.
Outside, the moon
thinned to a thread.
But, still alive –
and tight like this.
On the Buddha moor,
I cover my head.
Weaving me
into future dreams.
Stronger than yesterday
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 