John Myshkoff Biography

Beautifully executed chandelle
I thought,
They practice of course,
Or do they?
...

The drab wooden mailbox
Crumbles unnoticed,
Its flecking paint tossed aside
By an unkind breeze.
...

Wild grapes and honeysuckle
Their pungent scents mingled,
Float heavily on moist summer breezes,
Crickets and pond frogs
...

Just a hint,
Of orange tendrils
Tint the darkening sky.
It wasn't July,
...

The last wisps of hickory smoke
Stolen by a half hearted breeze,
Hung faintly near the campfire.
Embers sharing warmth
...