Shadows and Glimpses


November 2015

From the Podium

I promised the quintet I would keep perfect time.  They held their rhythm steady until the percussion swelled below.  Only one rushed ahead, succumbing to the push of the new meter.  The five reunited as the drums faded.

My baton never faltered.


Kindred Spirits

The ancient cypress shelters the barren hillside pasture, shrouding our playground in shadows.  Somersaults and log rolls dance in the dust as wind whispers our secrets.  Three mounds sift through my fingers into the darkness below, interring my heart forever with yours.

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