Saturday, September 22, 2012


Early morning bitter red tea
Steam rises to face, a seasonal touch.

A few dry leaves crunch
Underfoot leaving rusty crumbs.

Autumn arrives; my heart warms,
Soon crackle of chestnuts roasting.

September 22 2012

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

Sencha and The Boss

Sencha and The Boss aren't companions,
First thing in morning, when sun glows
Through grey dawn cover. He speaks
Of faith, I try not to snicker. Thinking about
Trading summer colors for autumn's rust & decay.
He sings about pushin' it till it's understood
And these badlands start treating us good.
So I pick up the quill and pot of ink,
On rough paper this landscape will be redrawn.

September 19, 2012

Tuesday, September 18, 2012


A hazy morning or is it fog?
Either substance, the path
Dully shimmers like warm
Breath on cold crystal.
Many hours before time
for sleep and already the
road is long, has been long.
Are cobblestones beneath
Fast waters a blaze to salvation?
Or is there a pyre in which to
Ignite for ashes becoming feathers?

September 18, 2012