Busy decisions Like an endless moon cycle Such a waxing life

Ask me who he is A tall tree and branches keen words drop; leaves shaken I try to collect them all But forget them by the stream

Such sweet aroma Breathe in the color deeply Exhale precious wafts Crisp Citric spiral peelings, Fill my compost disposal

Flickering between The realms of light and shadow Why not close the shades? Sleep’s alluring charm welcomes Despite such early hours!

To grasp at the root This longing for the seasons Hidden deep, deep down To say it’s just “Natural,” Would only scratch the leaf-tops

Fresh Seattle rain Cleanser more of soul than streets I envy that sound Such simple pure harmony Don’t forget that umbrella!

Anticipation Generic butterflies swarm Twists, knots, fluttering They find no golden nectar Only number two pencils

Distractions of youth Parade like bright spring flowers Always on the mind Entangling my weak heart To the land of mud and ice

Delicate surprise From behind blind-folded eyes That glint of glitter Sprinkle, sprinkle, floating down We reach out, we grasp, we drink

A sudden rain flux A faintly calling whisper To turn off eyelids Yet I cannot shake my dream For just another hour

Scattering shy leaves Skittering down two by two In Fall’s breeze they sink Forming such a golden path Blind-folded hearts can follow

My Grandfather’s last dream In a deep sea of white, heavy thun… Until a peaceful respite blinks What will it bring? Will the rain… With their piercing showers, will…

Archaic toiling Through endless character streams To drown deeper still Beneath black and white waters Until I breathe symbolly