When I Get Home

There will come a time
That moment when the sun
Peeks over the crowning skyline on the horizon
Illuminating in hues of pink
And orange, imperial violet
That familiar sight that beckons me
— beckons me to plant my roots
And make my home
Amongst the shaken leaves of fall Continue reading



I can always hear their howling
Lamentations, premonitions
–Warnings, mostly

I wonder, will I ever be rid of them
These ghosts that haunt the barren ground
I leave behind in the imprints of my steps?
Will they weather with time,
Or will they outlast me? Continue reading