Tags » SIT

Sit at Night

When the last shred of energy is gone
and it’s time to surrender to the relief of sleep
Let the mind empty itself
and make space, 45 more words

Poetry

swings.

Once again, Father Winter’s swings go limp in Mother Nature’s cruel, cold grasp.



Photography

SIT

Sun speaks in warm words, while
I listen with my silent skin for
Truth to depart and leave me open.

Poetry

March Musings

The calendar says March and the days grow longer as daylight lingers. Our thoughts may drift past the snow banks hunched against our homes, sidewalks and roads toward Spring and all things green and growing.Today the Winter Lion is roaring with wind and white whipping past my window. 46 more words