I prefer winter and Fall, when you feel the bone structure of the landscape — the loneliness of it, the dead feeling of winter. Something waits beneath it, the whole story doesn’t show. ~Andrew Wyeth

Friday, March 7, 2008


Death is a dogs paw
The small beetle crawls quickly
Across the hot road.

Fragrance blooms below
My window ledge. The rose is
Making love again.

Cat has gone away
No footprint marks his leave and
Sorrow mews at night.

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