The words and linesaren't coming today.I lie down for a nap.I dreamt of metaphorsand similes.I woke up.The years swim awaylike bass at spawningtime.

On our way intoSanta Anita one day,an old man had tippedover in his wheelchair.There was a pool of bloodbeneath his smooth head.I was with my Dad.He was around the sameage as the poor injured man.I was 12.Seeing that man,...

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⁓ blossomtime ⁓

As nightmares subsideat dawn, your eyesreflect the fear and thepain.They spill a desire to try.Please try.You can walk in therain without an umbrellaand let the clover andhoneysuckle guide youto safety.Evict the chaos fromyour thoughts, andleave the incubus behind.