warm mornings give way to grey
the turning of seasons
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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
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2017
(526)
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October
(39)
- Eternal Shores
- first calling
- Current Forms
- even summer flees warm mornings give way to grey ...
- We wish to protect the innocent as long as we can ...
- rise
- morning 10/24/17
- Morning 10/23/17
- The Old Shack
- Eventually. everything is about death. Surely, we...
- Stay focused on the small tasks in order to slowl...
- Routine
- Abstract and Concrete
- Have you awaken I think of you even now My former ...
- a path to better
- Morning 10/17/17
- Crucible in a Death Hand Will you accept the ugli...
- The Way to Where?
- Morning 10/16/17
- cool morning dry wind passing through season of bu...
- Past & Memory
- How long must this eternity be?
- Wolves & Daggers Young Days, Old Memories
- Awake Arise Air of life Breath of dawn Coolness on...
- And
- Oh, Honey
- How many years gone? How many remain?
- Calling life by name What words escape your lips O...
- Places to Go, Parts to Play
- Empties
- There are people staring There are people who alwa...
- incarnation of this life existing in this time for...
- lay down your words
- Color / Birth / Rhythm
- Unconditional Kindness
- Sleep
- Looking for peace in a world torn apart by madness...
- Waking and breathing Normal gift given over and ov...
- Present and Afterwards
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▼
October
(39)
About Me
life
When I am not writing this is what I do.
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