A Just Walk (run, hike, etc…)

"…to the Rock that is higher…"


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Like When I Was Ten

I composed this poem when I lived in China  during my bike rides home from my friend’s house. This is for them, and for everyone who still gets to ride their bike over to their friend’s house to play.

Riding my bike home

like when I was ten.

Summer’s eve seeps,

saturates my skin.

Summer’s breeze slips,

whips through my hair.

The air stirs

a playful longing.

I grin.

I’m riding my bike home

like when I was ten.

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January Morning

Pale pastels melding
Horizon’s translucent curtain
Like illuminated linen
Shrouds morning’s dawn.
The air, hushed and heavy
and still,
Breathes in bare branches
A mysterious magic lingers
In this muted morning.