the
world
is
a
book
and
those
who
do
not
travel
read
only
one
page

-st augustine

the
regulars
brought
together
by
coffee
had
more
in
common
than
that

the
wind
is
knocking
down
the
tree
branches
so
that
I
might
build
a
fire

the
wind
is
howling
rattling
the
windows
trying
to
break
through
the
walls

I
want
to
tour
my
old
childhood
home
but
I'm
afraid
of
what
I'll
find

the
air
was
white
and
when
they
alighted
it
tasted
like
cold
pennies

-e.m. forster, howards end

he
doesn't
know
he
breathes
life
into
me
but
he
does
each
time
he
breathes

she
held
my
arm
as
we
walked
home
last
night
this
began
a
long
friendship

when
I'm
thinking
I'm
thinking
in
words
when
I
dream
I
dream
in
music

mt
st
helens
mt
hood
mt
rainier
the
blue
mountains
the
very
mountain

I
like
my
cat
so
much
better
when
I
think
of
her
as
a
vampire

I
just
broke
up
with
a
friend
it's
the
kind
of
hurt
that
freedom
feels
like

how's
your
book
he
asked
oh
you'd
hate
it
she
said
it's
dreadfully
english

I
imagined
many
poems
while
I
meditated
now
I've
forgot

he
said
imagine
a
comfortable
place
I
imagined
a
mountain

he
has
a
Harley
that
he
never
rides
I
can't
trust
a
man
like
that

you
are
not
powerless
you
have
the
power
that
makes
you
powerful

I
wrote
stories
about
the
photographs
and
imagined
all
their
lives

it's
the
past
a
single-minded
man
eyes
a
complicated
lady

I
remember
singing
all
the
mother
mother
songs
I
was
just
sixteen