Thursday, December 16, 2010


I read by light of stove, waiting for my tea. A thin blue light leaks into dark; brightens well timed words of Emily.  

“Will there really be a morning?
Is there such a thing as day?
Could I see it from the mountains
If I were as tall as they?”

Wednesday, December 15, 2010


Occasionally I’ll make myself smile too hard and it hurts when I look around and there’s no one to smile with.

Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Twenty to life

The constant growl of the prison bus leaves us with only our sight to reach through the grate into the streets of a distant youth. I whisper farewell twice to each row of pavement. Once for an old man blessed with too many years, and again for a young life given back to them.
We already miss the feel of the wind, the sough of the trees; physical echo’s of freedom.  

Monday, December 13, 2010

Out my window

The muddled amber glare of the moon, panned through clouds, rests on a thin layer of virgin snow.