Milky ways of diamond dust Across a desert sky Flames that dance within the night And carry wishes high Upon the winds, up to the stars Where the gods can hear Smoke rings dancing in the dark Before they disappear Some say magick isn’t real…

I watch the sun’s slant in the gloaming hours energy soaks the wood planks on the floor long after the last box has been loaded but before the first memories folded us out the door  

Under the stars beneath the trees along the road ahead A light shimmers to bluish life an intoxicating mystery

    Living in pigeon holes boxed in with closed doors Restricted, obstructed, constricted views Brightly painted doors for happy beginnings Cities that lure with their fake promises playing with real lives Too hungry to refuse, they play along with a hope Someday, that door…