In evening light at still of day

Shadows are sweeping time away.

A man through his window sees it all,

The fading blue, the shadow fall.

At the upper edge of vision

Perfect pearl, divine precision.

As hidden jewel in tapestry,

Shines the orb through the trees.

Two thirds round, white edged, sharp and clean.

The last third blurs into the unseen.

Precise imper...

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They dance in the shadows
Made by the trees
Branches stretched out
With long fingers
Claw like, grabbing
Taking a hold
And ripping at the soul
They dance
On the beaches
As the waves
Wash over them
Dragging them under
Taking their breath away
Saturated, sodden
Soaked to the skin
They dance
On a knife edge
Broken glass under feet
Bloodshot eyes
Roses and chocolate
A torn tapestry
...

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