The evergreens and 
the pines mingled well with the 
driftwood and seashells.

There was a marsh of
sorts and a wooded space where
I felt safe hiding.

The trees are much 
different by the sea than they are
inland. They're wetter.

Every time I find
myself in nature the 
poetry writes itself.

I love nature. I 
feel it deeply. It moves me 
to write poetry.

"Art enables us 
to find ourselves and lose ourselves 
at the same time."
                              - Thomas Merton

It's one of those nights
where the wind whistles and whips 
like in old stories. 

The sky was so clear
and the clouds were so thin and
it was so cold out.

Did you ever think
maybe the fame was just too 
much for His Loch Ness?

We all carry a 
little bit of dark and heartache 
around with us. 

The sun decided 
to shine today. I've seen more 
crows than usual.

Every person you've
met has been influenced by 
you. Think about it.

It's not the end or 
beginning of something, but
the now of everything.

My daughter said I 
needed to change the color
of my blog, so I did.

The winter air is thick
with warmth between bodies
snuggled in a nest.

Just thinking on 
an old haiku then I thought, "Fuck it, 
I'll write something new."

It's so cold outside
it almost seems like the sun 
is shining cold, too.

And some times all it
takes is a unicorn app 
to make my whole day.

Wow, one moment it's 
now and then all of a 
sudden it's yesterday.

There it is. The fireworks. 
The confetti. The "Happy 
New Year!"s. Midnight.