Time is a Snake.

It swallows its path;

it lays the way:

a corridor of darknesss;

a mouth of new beginningss.

I have many selfish problems. 

but I pray:

Whatever good is in me,

let me give it to this world.

Which do you Choose:

 a long life of Toil

or

aSHORTerlifeofFUN?

Walking the pinto streets of white Aspen at dawn,

I see a Country of False Unity.

I see you burning.

I see you frozen.

I see you drowning in apathy.

I see survivors

                                    clinging

to mountain meadows,

and flooded banks,

where soft and vivid flowers grow.

There were blank pages

scattered inside the book.

He thought he'd reached the end

with his pen,

but the wind had blown the paper leaves

and he lost his place

in places,

leaving empty pages from the past.

October again. Ever since 2008, when I was living out of my Subaru on a perpetual road trip, the word itself makes me say, "Bur," even as the orange-yellow sun shines over the fields.

An ice cube melts in the sink.

Drip by drip

I watch it shrink,

a tail of water

down the drain. ...

I imagine that falling Up

is scarier

than falling Down.