winter shadows on the table in the hall

        I hear the quiet in the dark and smell the warm sunlight dancing across the wall I see the crack in the jar where the cover doesn’t quite fit I feel the chip in the wall in the shape of a ragged heart I taste the offering of sweetness waiting on the table   I think this is me my…

ghosts of summer’s past

          “..the lawn Is pressed by unseen feet, and ghosts return Gently at twilight, gently go at dawn..” T.S. ELIOT (excerpt from To Walter de la Mare)              

about last night

        I prefer the messiness of real life      


          “He’s a wallflower. You see things. You keep quiet about them. And you understand.” ~ Stephen Chbosky