
Alarm clock
squawks
and mocks
mercilessly
at that
precise moment
I’ve finally surrendered
heart and soul
to good night’s sleep.
So
I awake
defeated
unrested.

Alarm clock
squawks
and mocks
mercilessly
at that
precise moment
I’ve finally surrendered
heart and soul
to good night’s sleep.
So
I awake
defeated
unrested.
Yet, how to tread where thistles lie, where stones strike?
Seasons turn, earth’s embrace, not always kind.
I’m longingfor cold water springstripping down canyon creeks,for birdsongs accompanyingmountain trail runs,for air that carriesthe sound of rebirth. I cravewarm sun kisses,freckled cheeks watching,colorful kites catchinggentle wind,open skies unfoldinga promise of play. Our winter freezehas lingered far too long,has kept us indoors,has doomed us to scrollingthrough false memoriesof better days. It’s past timewe gather,we collect,we…
The Drifter Chasing horizons across endless skies,I follow spirits flying high above twisting roads.Every sunset disguises misstepsAnd whispered sighs of slow surrender. The Seeker Probing mysteries hidden in oceans depths, I cast my futures with the fishers’ nets.My secrets hold tight in yesterday’s shadows,Obscuring light once sought, but lost. The Wanderer Traversing lands where mountains…
Treasure hunts, dance away,Obstacle courses, wild horse play.Balloon keep-up, hula hoop,Jump rope jumps, and scooter loops.Tag you’re it, hopscotch flips,Water balloons, hands on hips.”Jump high, bend low,” Because Simon says so.Nature walks, build forts high,Paddleboards under the sky.Volleyball,sandy beach,Snowball fights on unplowed streets.Skipping stones, kites in flight,Through the day to starry night.In this rhythm, we…
When I was young, late-night adventuresof dancing,of dining, of playing cardswith friendswas my declarationof independenceover sleep. But nowthe most thrilling Friday night means falling asleepin reclinerwhile semi-rivetedin a streaming documentaryabout the history of cheese.
Words gave me life on a once barren page—Once hidden in the void, I was born,A character flawed with immature fears.Wide-eyed, ink-stained, seeking who sharesMy voice. Do I merit ears that might judge?Or do I evolve—could I truly transform? Alone, I wonder if others understand,Do my tales resonate or merely exposeConfusion? I shudder under weight…