Clouds hang heavy, dark,
like summer plum rain.
Each drop in the ocean.
Teases my transient thoughts.
Lazy drifts gather.
Inhaled, despite knowing.
An autumn signature.
Cold and digging into bones.
Caught up in the moment
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 