On comes the light and I reach out for the taste of morning in an orange orchid that unfolds a sash of summer’s stock to tie its threads around the ears of anxious. On comes the morning and I stretch emerald strokes onto a light canvas pulled out across grouchy grasses that cannot see […]


  I climb trees to forlese the briar and catch the soil from this bird’s eye view, but my sight is not the same as sad sparrow so I cannot see if something is stirring in the rat race below and yet said sparrow can spot the worm before he enters up into the air […]


  Things change. Sunday morning I rise, though with no rolling stone miracle, and thread footsteps into the field where the passage of daisies have taken over from the pressing soles of sport. Things change. Later, in cream pants and oversized sofa sweater instead of the customary suited and booted parade affair, I drop smoked […]