I saw you,
sitting in the lamplight.
Your arms open for love.
Spring rain drizzling.
The smell of baking cakes,
gently rising up.
A morning glory.
Until the fall wind,
and all the flowers
have faded.
Singing with the boys
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 