10 Feb, 2019

Storm

10 Feb, 2019

Storm Dark clouds kiss the sky, lay themselves down like a vixen waiting to be ravaged. Winds aloft are warm like breath, but here where I stand, it’s frozen. Tiny, iced ball-bearings pelt the earth and leave striations of white against my window. Who gives a storm a name...

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15 Apr, 2015

To My Fellow Pilgrims

15 Apr, 2015

This is what I will tell you: Never again carry an itinerary.
Okay, have a landing pad and a departure pad
as anchors if you must.
But that is all.
Allow each moment to inform the next.
Nowhere to go; no place to be, except
right here
for as long as you decide.

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