Magazine Posts

Black oystercatcher trying to claim his rock, Camano Island, Rocky Point

Wind blowing, through all the trees.
Shaking dead branches to the ground.
It is not a sound that will please,
As the Widow Makers do abound.

Note. A widow maker was a large branch that could fall from a tree and
severely hurt a person on the ground. In the old days, it was a logger.

It matters not, what you think of me,
For I will be what I want to be.
Free to write about my World view.
Free to write down words for you.
If you like them or if you don't,
It is your view, that always count.

The small mouse, sits under the tree,
Looking for something to eat, once again.
Keep you eyes open, as you scurry about,
For danger exists in the air above
And all over the wet, soggy ground.
An Owl will see your movement, or not
Or a Fox will track you down.
So, stay close to the shelter you're in
And don't become a meal for them.

Rain falling
Ground muddily wet
Rubber boots

A flower still blooms between us,
Although our love is past.
The passion that devoured us,
In this earthly life, is lost,
In the stars of the heavens,
So dark, on the night that didn't last.
Farewell my love, farewell to thee,
For with my passing, you will be free.

It's not OK, that on this night,
I sleep for an hour, no more.
My brain is fried yet keeps
Spewing words until my ears roar.
Writing more nonsense about,
A door or words
Sleeping on the floor.
What's next, I ask
On bended knee,
As I wrestle with my sanity.
Please let me
Get some sleep,
Or this will soon
Be the end of me.

#sunset

To watch a person's life, slip away
Brings thought's of what to say.