Brian Tinsley Biography

Soft spoken wind
Of the trees
So many branches twisting
Yet we forget
...

The root of the heart
Is not easy to reach
But some crepid, darkening
Slowly are breached
...

The day which stood
Still asleep in the sun

Quiet and peaceful
...

How my heart bled for you
and like a well ran dry...

I feel the wind in my hair
...

If two moose are called moose
and two goose are called geese

Then why aren't two mouse
...