This life
This beach
never ending
or so it would
seem
Standing here
watching
waves roll in
as though
they have
always existed
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It's always getting late.
When I am not writing this is what I do.
"In the present we are always in memory." - Trish Keenan
It's always getting late.
Introduction
This blog is a virtual notebook of writing that I maintain as often as I can. Poems, stray lines, random observations, all co-exist here. Revisions occur as needed/deemed fit.
See/Hear
A Chronological Archive of Joy and Heartache most often referred to as LIFE
-
▼
2017
(526)
-
▼
August
(33)
- A Summer Farewell
- The Beating Heart of the Sunrise
- Summer Sleep
- Lifetime Summation
- Fearful
- Running Late
- Home
- Present
- Morning 8/18/17
- Morning 8/17/17
- stillness
- hearing your sweet laugh may your childhood be ble...
- Birth
- After the Fire
- The thin line between here and forever
- Morning 8/15/17
- Morning 8/13/17
- break direction
- Morning 8/12/17
- Morning 8/11/17
- Morning 8/10/17
- Morning 8/9/17
- I must continue to seek the path that has been rev...
- eternity
- The Answer
- I wish to close the gaps between our memories Do ...
- As We Watch
- Even this night will fade Even this sun will rise
- Late Night Call
- Even the darkness fades away
- Planes and the Nighttime Beach
- Thoughts By An Actual Human.
- Morning 8/1/17
-
▼
August
(33)
About Me
life
When I am not writing this is what I do.
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