my heart

how i see the world where my living is done do i find the time perhaps there is none. or so i say then fly away.

we sit in silent sunlit reverie no thoughts to contain our harmony.

the little leaf, its life suspended as it waits to fall now that summer has ended.

the does not reconstruct analyze deconstruct the bee does what  it has to do. a short, arduous existence not punctuated by flights o...

if a poem were like this flower, exquisitely detailed in its simplicity. a standard hard to maintain. perhaps a  glimpse of such beau...

I begin to see what you mean to me Although you did not want my company I begin to see what i meant to you A world of dreams that did not ...

from up here we see your metal boxes go by. when we hear your sounds up here, we fly. but if one of us is slower and moves, last, ...