Can my lady see,
the port for which I long?
A vine-grown roof,
not broken by the wind.
The solitude and
deepening autumn nights.
With new leaves to blow,
and the taste of rain
on a wet, never-ending night.
Zen Life Poem #11
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 