Brutus

Like daggers drawn over the fence suggest, There is a likely hero among us, Only to sink in unlikely contempt…

Lines

That silent ink unfolding In a closed room Drooped in loneliness, withering While breathing in open bloom   Told her…

A little dream

While returning from Strand, I thought A home be there like homely Near the new road where lived smoke In…

A Dame

Today I am a lost ranger in the heavenly woods When I was younger I would loose in by lanes…