Poetry | Writings | Photography

A Spectrum of Where

The Grove of Trees

The Dream Had Set an Exquisite Table

The Mirror of All Our Moments

This Summer Was Supposed to be Different

Please Wait to be Seated

The Precipice of Sliced Peaches

Last Light on Waves

Pour Out the Water

Sent a Telegram to the Sea

This Morning on the Empty Beach

Under a Radiant Sun

Lying on the Grass of a Sloping Hill

Darkness Comes Earlier Now

It Happens in the Last Days of Summer

On the Road, To the Clouds

Last Night at the Beach

Within a Drifting Sky

End of the Bloom

Looking Back on Our Conversation About Not Looking Back

Settling into the Slipstream of Nowhere