My Poetry and Prose Blogology
Sands or Stars
“My paths are branched, the more I walk
the more they multiply, like weeds…”
Things We Do Not Speak
“Down the unlit alleyway
I have recklessly meandered for years
locked within a maze of my own making…”
A Fish Out of Water
"shivering apparitions of early morning mists
softly settle on their deep—quiescent waters..."