Mosquitos
The light
shining through their wings
Is the rainbow
after the rain
Firefall
Firefall Red leaves turning brown Flames of fire consuming wood Eating the forest
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Heros
David Carradine met George Carlin in prison, I would’ve said heaven but I don’t think they made it. I would’ve said in hell but I hope they are not there so maybe they’re in prison — purgatory shall we say somewhere between for a day or two or three? like the cat with nine lives spinning out of control praying for forgiveness for sins we do not know Is value more than what they made in fame and fortune here, my idealism of both, I still hold so dear. The 1970s youth I was seeking peace as a boomer I found not only in these two, but in Paul Harvey’s humor.
Finding Myself
I looked across the stillness into the whiteness straining my eyes searching I saw a reflection of shades of gray yet I feel black and white
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