Poetry
— Dawn in winter Asheville: a solitary observer watches snow fall, trees dance in wind, and contemplates ancestors' fear before the household wakes.
— The moon glances over at you as if to tell a secret, It whispers of the world coming alive, The stars shining, The quiet symphony, And the distant beauty of...
— Morning light and wind become a meditation on listening to silence — mountains, birds, voices, and things unheard speak through a bedroom window.
— A meditation on poetry's elusive nature through metaphors of spiderwebs in sunlight, chaos on paper, and the universe writing, ending with deliberate uncertainty.
— My sneakers, sneakers, sneakers They call me every day So I can put them on Hooray, Hooray! Oh sneakers, I’m coming, I’m coming I have to put my socks on...
— A poem observing wildfire from a distance, exploring the paralysis of witnessing destruction while remaining safe on a green mountain.
— A teen traces identity through three places — Ireland's moody skies and rocky beaches, England's hard books and rock music, and California's eternal summer — finding home in the scattered...
— You are just one apple on a whole apple tree but the smallest seed will make the biggest difference eventually
— A woman sits alone in an automat, invisible to others, as her hair whispers conflicting advice and laughing people demand she smile.
— A woman falls through collapsing stairs, her body fragmenting into surreal objects—banjo, Picasso painting, brooms—while she prays not to be seen or painted.