Eye slits and nostrils

Lurking beneath the surface

Crocodile swamp 

Rotten planks drifting

Another gloomy Sunday

Flies on the wreckage 

Cool rain in the fall

Washing away last nights dreams

Tired eyelids drop

Transparent droplets

Rain wends down valley creases 

Don’t cry little one

In one hundred years

What will become of these words? 

If you’re there, reply! 

Muddy iris dark

With glazed vacant stares reflect

Doting joyful eyes 

On smooth white pebbles

In shades of mermaid and sea

We paint our story

Golden clouds glitter

On a smooth silver surface 

Hearts burnished with bronze 

Pacing wooden boards

Until the grey light of dawn

Ends the hope of sleep 

After the winter

Sap rising up from the frost

A shiny new birch 

The last of the sun

Shines against an old brick wall

A moment of peace 

Cross the misty fells

On a hot air balloon ride

Into the mountains 

Some things you can change

And then for everything else

There is acceptance 

Without a cohort

True freedom is loneliness

We are bound by love 

Today is the last

There is no other like it

Don’t wish it away 

A bleak horizon 

The beauty of emptiness

Decisions are loss

In the far away

Distances growing longer

A vanishing point

On the still surface

In the cloudy reflection

Another day dies