People are real and complex and composed of out of context quotes, half-remembered daydreams, and coffee-stained yesterdays – there is a beauty in such fascinating feelings and experiences; but we can’t all boil down to rhyme or reason so easily – we don’t all fit…

We make time for the people and things we value we leave space for growth and potential and even opportunity based on the things we want in life. Anyone who can keep you softly laughing – no matter what the day throws at you is…

There are so many things I am hoping you’ll realize as the pages get thinner and thinner – as you not only near the end – but feel it so completely in your soul that this is just another step along a path you have…

I Feel Like There’s a Poem In Singing ‘Stick Season’ as I Drive Across The Colorado River While Lake Travis is at 40% Capacity On The Coolest Summer of the Rest of Our Lives While Realizing I Likely Won’t See Another Season of the Sticks…

Meeting Mothman in the Coffee Shop Is that.. Is that really him? Tall wings of luscious.. Is it feathers? Or fur? Either way, I thought he would be taller and yet I can’t look away from him or his bicycle brake eyes scanning the menu…

I Once Again Write About The Sky I haven’t seen the stars in almost four months. At least not ones that are actually in the sky above me in that moment. Instead of I see miles of orange stretching across the horizon. Not that delicious…

Listening to the music you left behind is like trying to send letters to a stranger in a house that won’t be built for centuries and there is something to be said for the level of tenacity or pure dedication coursing through veins that won’t…

Progress is progress – you’ve got this and you truly are capable of so much more than you ever seem to realize; but that said, you owe me a salsa with time and a tango with potential –   don’t put me on hold again,…

It is midnight now – the witching hour I am drinking honeyed whiskey and writing in something other then obsidian ink – so clearly whatever is haunting me now is not you is not cinnamon or orange juice.   I am not sobbing about the…

You’ve come to me in a dream again. This time it’s exactly a year since you left us, after fist fighting with death until there was no fight left. Now here you are- radiant and giddy, “Fine as frog’s hair,” unencumbered by aging or illness……