A Free Verse Poem
All the spent brush littering the hillside to the right,
mostly brown to the left as well,
railroad tracks not far behind, hidden by the slopes.
“I swear it’s beautiful in the spring.”
Continue reading “By the River”The downpour must be waiting for something.
All the spent brush littering the hillside to the right,
mostly brown to the left as well,
railroad tracks not far behind, hidden by the slopes.
“I swear it’s beautiful in the spring.”
Continue reading “By the River”Do not mind it.
The coffee is steamy for once,
and the sun rises through a layer of gray fog
itself invisible but its light apparent.
Continue reading “Til Tomorrow, Love”