Sick wild fish,
dance for life.
Gulping the winter cold.
The only hope,
a rice field
fed by plum rain.
Once green,
and flushed
amongst strangers.
Traveller steps
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 