winter morning tea
the play of light and shadow
I capture my self

winter morning tea
the play of light and shadow
I capture my self
no one likes the truth
even when told with great love
prophets don’t die old
across from donut shop
one…two - a dozen herons
take flight before dawn
not much to look at
sunrise through the window screen
my one precious life
everything leads to now
a long look at what is real
that time of the night
when the fierce howling wind stops
and the highway speaks