Douglas Whiteraven

Alas
They are but small pieces of a bigger puzzle
So different yet so similar
And when the time comes for them to merge
...

The muse is wistful
And fleet of foot
But upon my door she stood
If I could catch her just one time
...

Look...look
What is that
Quick...quick
Like a flash
...

As I walk the sacred land
The sun momentarily shines bright upon my face

The deafening silence is almost unnerving
...