My Poetry and Prose Blogology
The Nth River
“the final flows of our weary sky-blue rivers
turbid from stretches of exasperated erosion
stirred up in colors of boundless branches
will gracefully empty into an endless ocean”
Dreams That Become Us
“trapped in places—we dared not venture
fixed in shapes—we risked not touch
arrayed in colors—we often ignored
traveling in lifestyles—we did not understand
and speaking in voices—we failed to hear”