Madeline

To feel my feet crunch on the gravel path, hands, brushing brambles and box-hedges. To knock on the dead leaf door; Hear: the sound of fox-knocker on wood. See the mice curtains twitch;

MY WORD: "HUMATERNITY"

(a letter I submitted to the editor of The Medford Mail Tribune in Oregon, USA)

I am sorry.

I am alone. Trapped within You all talk I never hear I am scared. Terrified of myself All the damage I’ve yet to cause. I hear him. I hear you Telling me to do well
Cherry

Wednesday Sonnet: The Actor to the Audience

When I still had the sunlight in my hair I thought the gods of theatre had misspelt My stage directions; was I Caesar’s heir? I did not feel the quiet others felt

With all my love.

I love the way she smiles Her load explosive laugh I love the way she walks Dodging rubbish in her path I love to feel her touch Her heart in tune with mine

Fires.

Needs allot of work :)

Echoes in mind

Kathleen's house...still painful.

WAITING FOR RAGNAROK

The world is strangely calm: a thousand cities of a thousand sky-scrapers a thousand cultures with different ways go about their work and play And yet there's a general ugliness to it:

draft thri; feardom

3 feardom Now you can not be so sure, maybe just the sweat from before, because I am not afraid anymore.

draft for; dome-life

draft 4; domelife Living in a bubble child doesn't see no-ones allowed to know sun always shines while outside a tornado pulls the home away all they can give is love

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