Thoughts

THE JOURNEYAbove the mountainsthe geese turn intothe light againPainting theirblack silhouetteson an open sky.Sometimes everythinghas to beinscribed acrossthe heavensso you can findthe one linealready writteninside you.Sometimes it takesa great skyto find thatfirst, brightand indescribablewedge of freedomin your own heart.Sometimes withthe bones of the blacksticks left when the firehas gone outsomeone has writtensomething newin the ashes […]

she had a heart that would heat up and boil over steaming up the kitchen windows like soup on a winter afternoon and he was always ready with his bowl and spoon. (the word Heart is designed of found objects)

Jujubee fruit collected from my tree today. The meat tastes like apple.