How distant it becomes

How distant it becomes

Ashes can’t burn again

Arms full of kindling wood

To light the now not when

Living in the sunrise

The gift of a new day

The unchartered and wild

Is just one step away

Passing threads without knots

Passing threads without knots

Lost button, falling star

The world traveler or

Lightning bug in a jar

Days looking like statues

The changes are within

The same fingerprint but

Not the feelings herein

Vibrant velocity

Vibrant velocity 

Dreams in real time racing

From Canal Street to Park

The trains not outpacing 

Oranges in the market

Scavenger hunt list find

Joe Jackson’s Steppin’ Out

Is not just state of mind

Wanting to say much more

Wanting to say much more

Words harbored in the heart

Scratches on the surface

Of watercolor Art

A weighted blue ocean 

The sky lightened with white

Our flesh blurred into sand

Like gulls that can’t take flight

Snow Hill to this small child

Snow Hill to this small child

An invite for embrace

Yet fear of ridicule

Okapi in disgrace

A panic hope for rain

To wash out the gather

Forest retreat to be

Left alone the rather

Town crier on tender

Town crier on tender

Nights willing to listen

Shouts avoiding shutters

Words so loud they glisten

Verses mere c’est la vie

Perched butterfly flapping

Not moving onward but

Pondering the grasping

The harvest hangs heavy

The harvest hangs heavy

The golden light is gray

The monarchs have moved on

The geese are on their way

A preview of autumn

It is always the same

Except for the newer

And the fewer we name