Midway between
thunder flashes.
And the cold
smell of life.
Living, dying.
All is clear.
To live at the
very moment.
On this plain
of nothingness.
Returning to the source
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 