I sit in evenings dim glow
and contemplate the mysteries of life
with my cat
As our minds begin to grapple
...
1992
If I could drink the pale silvered milk of the harvest moon
and taste it sweet and gleaming, dripping on my lips
...
Do I dare to dream; To aspire to those lofty
heights from which I could fatally plummet?
Ah, but the air is crisp and the sky is
...
She is beautiful when she dreams
Dreams of yesterday, dreams of tomorrow
Soft smoky dreams of places far, times long past
Hard, wanton dreams of blood and steel
...
One day I stopped believing In you
No longer did your smile
...
I still can't go there.
To that little swatch of grass
bathed in sunlight
without even a dappling of shade
...
I oft wondered
on dark lonely night
Where arose those words
and prose
...