The sky is dark Just like my heart When trapped within the city So sometimes we seek refuge Far from home Some by choice but it can be seen That not all are so lucky Unhoused this is their day to day So we take…

the fading wisps of smoke from a dying campfire are the sweetest dying embers sputter dousing sand sizzles   I miss that   we built a fire pit in the backyard of my old, small town home; thirteen-tons of flagstone and granite I moved from…