thus begins a snap in our step—

though still breezy and chill,

we march now toward spring

attuned to the nuances

of inevitable mortality—

in serenity, the ancient relic

dances her last

blindly, she drew

and when at last she looked,

she saw

maple trunk

thickens every year

our steady sentinel

seeking

my own

denouement 

high above the fairway fringe

bald eagle perches in wintry sycamore

does he, too, revel in his majesty?

degraded hearts

mining

yesterday’s sorrows

another night

void of sleep

painting watercolors

in semi-darkness

i know a good people

when i see them

quite easy identifying the bad

yet, i’m clueless to explain

how so many are unable to

tell the difference

your antiseptic smile

distillery of all

my hopes & dreams