I believe i received the gift of writing as a child. my imagination was always forming new images, and so I write and then I destroy. Now years later I try again and hope to share with my poet friends and together on a journey of words.
Dark and rich
As nature
Color of the trees and soil
A hue of luminous browns
...
With every breath and sigh
Cold winds blow by
Remembering winters past
Promises of friendship to last
...