truth is the sun rosethis morning, splattering of lightlow and cold – birds on high branchesmoving and feeding to stay warm aliveshaking water from the treeswhile cold feetin thick socks and gumbootswade the night rain become mud.i know that inside a warm fire waitsand teaalways tea. truth is, arm down a burrowin soft wrapped fur,i…
new moon in august sows summer dreams of tomatoes succulent hung christmas bauble amongst the vines – of squash and melon swelling with the sun of long days, evening river swims and the unquenchable mystery of a year that turns and turns again. last night was burn-cold and bright with stars when i checked on…