Tuesday, May 27


A bit of expired film from a foggy venture last week
where I discovered, surrounded by mist,
a young maple
that would seem lorn at a glimpse.
In her solace, a sovereignty,
and wearing only a veil of warm evening fog,
but beneath an alluringly lovely

Wednesday, May 21


Strolling through an endless late spring of french daydreams.

Saturday, May 10


forever is a long, long time.

Thursday, May 1

Rite of Spring

A rite of spring is born,
 hair tossed in the wind, bright eyed, wandering
 humming a sweet beltane wind,
she sings,
"The earth is awake".