Category: Poetry

Between the westering light
and my still frame
Trees stand naked in the chill
and taste the…

Simply strike camp.
Kick dust across the dying fire
Hoist the pack.
Ignore the map….

I move upstream
The water is brown,
Churned
Ringed with foam…

Dissonance
Cold fury
The unsettled scores
Of arrogant men…

You wept
Salt-laden photographs
Of what was
What might…