Winter desolation,
that speaks
as if in a dream.
Blue bird,
are you not sad?
But the wandering
moon came home.
And scattered
life around.
I sat alone – still in truth.
A new love,
aglow in me
Let me remember only this
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 