I was on a train from
Paris to Amsterdam
and with an empty page
a sad smile and a pen
she was looking out
the window across
the apple green fields and
into the valleys of cobbled
villages and ****** churches
and as the dead air of Paris
was leaving my mind
I began to read the reflection
of questions in her eyes
I wanted to tell her what
she already knew
that the answers are in
the rhythm of the rails
and to only underline
the words that matter ...
Clay.M

No one can give you
more respect than
the person who see
in the mirror- Amen!

There's more wisdom
in deleting
the items
you don't need
than in augmenting

Lawrence Hall
[email protected]
Dispatches for the Colonial Office

                                     Each Kiss is a Distraction

While we weren’t watching
They might have declared war on Canada
We’d better check around

I like drawing hearts, they represent love.
Each one imperfect, misshapen, unique.
But still made for love.
Just like us.

Like the last spark from dying embers
Leaving her bed of ashes
Floating up into the dark sky
A droplet of fire
Carried by the currents of wind
Into her next blazing beginning