Plight of the Poet

Everywhere the gray-green came up to Meet the dying winter sky And the trees amongst them Were heavy with longing for The Spring that...

“dandelion parapet” whimsical shoes remorseful they don’t walk more a cup worth of soup making love on a cool spring morning to a tin can...

the lonely boy slowly slipped away against all things refined, awakening then one morning to find the sound of his own breath echoing off...