The first glimpse
of spring, not quite.
Still, in everything I touch
a chance to meet you again.
We can never go back.
Just gather new shoots
on the mountains here.
The sounds of the
moment we fell in love.
Let me take you by the hand
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 