«Blackened wind weaves patterns hollow / Under barely breathing leaves / And a trembling little swallow / In dark skies a circle weaves. Quietly argue in the heart / Dear, dying, mine despite, / An impending dusk apart / Of an ebbing ray of light. And above the woods of dusk / Has ari...»
«Why is the soul so lyrical / And so few are the names I love / And the ready rhythm but a miracle / Like Aquillon from above? He will raise clouds of dust in a hurry / He will leaf through the paper stack / And he will not come back — or maybe / As another he will come back? Winds of...»
«Perhaps you not need me not this minute, / Night; from sea foams of the world — / A shell without a pearl within it — / Upon your shores I have been hurled. With mists the ocean you embellish / And wordlessly you sing as well; / But you will love, and you will cherish / The pretense...»
«Oh your image, haunting me yet blurred, / In the fog I could not touch or feel. / "Goodness me" by error slipped the word / Unawares, yet heeding its appeal. Name of god, like a large bird, so intensely, / Took a flight right out of my chest. / Straight ahead the fog is steaming densely /...»