Poet's Journal

Journal Entries

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Brittle Become Green

There’s an empty spot where you used to be, brittle as a branch, longing for touch. Empty but brittle that doesn’t make sense you say

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Here for a Season

When I’m tired and aggrieved I return to the earth green and vivid. The life of one petal, one leaf, here for a season then

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The End of the World

Just when we thought we’d reached the end of the world the sea rolled over on a wind driven tide and a white plumed eagle

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Once More Today

There is this time and this alone to see your face and know you over the years and miles, the lifetimes we have traveled. We’re

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Poems