Coffee poured
in a silent kitchen.
The sounds of the street,
a long broad tongue.
As I make my way through
hardwood memories.
I still have you,
each day well-rooted.
Between my hands,
between my lips.
Such sweet
morning thoughts.
4 AM This Morning
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 