I remember
your warm skin,
like gold and honey,
dripping against
my tongue’s tip.
End of the Road
I remember the end of this road,
where railroad ties lay rotting,
and beer cans,
once forgotten,
Continue reading “End of the Road”
Old Dirt Road
I feel like an old dirt road,
furrowed and forgotten,
unworthy of paving stones.
Where do I lead?
Where do I go? Continue reading “Old Dirt Road”
You are Golden
As my beard
grows grey,
the memory
of your face,
though out of focus,
has taken on
the most lovely glow. Continue reading “You are Golden”