Autumn spurns ice cream.
Had the tire tracks been just a dream.
Scratching with four paws at the door.
They say, bad things happen to good people.
But I say, wicked is wicked.
Like candy from a candy store…there will always be more.
…
The signs are still all around in this beat up town.
Rugged is the night, well soiled beaten boots, lonely and homeless…
ten speed bikers abound.
I had not known you but your death lingers in traces of waterfalls and fractured mills.
With innocence of voice could your youth ever be found?
…
I too get lost from time to time.
Woods shadow my heart…disfigure my mind.
Muddied snowfall calls from a vagrant timber.
Beneath a land of lost souls…I am not always sound.
…
