Her Many Colors

He loved her many colors, She loved his wistful song, They spent each year together, But nights grew long — And though the cold and echoes came, The warmth kept coming through, For love’s a thing of color, Worked out in what We do

stages of infinity 2

i dreamed i was an island, broken into pieces too remote to be famous and too small to be infamous — when i woke up, the sun was shining off the ocean, and i was both remote and small, but loving the pieces, nonetheless

stages of infinity 1

find it all grab hold of it and stake your claim how good it feels when you wake, andthe world’s become yours and yet still you wonder if you deserve this — well, none of us do. and again — each one of us does even you.especially you.enjoy this

Radio Tower

Worth is measured Less by stature Than by what we make Possible

Boom Box

We chose our favorite place to receive our daily lack of choice, calling into stations asking for songs they got around to playing three hours later.So we bought records and made mixtapes, in a time when songs cost more than they do now, trying to make our own radio station, better than the real ones.It’s … Continue reading "Boom Box"

like a morning

and it feels like a morning should: new in purpose, gradual in intent, and made from dew and possibilities

the river, working

the quiet flowing is intense in its peacefulness not weakness but consistency of purpose

friends parted with

a day done, and friends parted with -- a night comes. togetherness brings comfort and the ache of goodbyes

A Different Time

IT WAS, I know, a different time; more in my awareness than in any particular external essence. Then, as now, though cameras captured but part of the sights, and recorders only some of the sound. Memory, for one my age, isn't so much about bringing that old world back as it is bringing it back … Continue reading "A Different Time"