It rained for three days. I listened. Trying to write of the sound. Sounds. Different tones from different places. In bed. By the window....

Instead of the rush for spring, I choose to linger in these last hours of winter. In the splash-colored backdrop of daffodil and tulip...

A winter week's poems, inspired by the day. And coffee. bitter black dawn arabica sips slow Monday hands the shovel wondering where a...

It is the solstice and Winter enters with expected calm. And my neck is sometimes stiff from tilting my face towards the southern sun. In...