The Atlantic
“This is an impossibility.” I chide myself, and reasonably so. For I have never met you, Your scent is but a rumor, And I’ve only a single picture, With which to look into your eyes. There is an ocean between us, Swirling, storming, uncertain. And I a naïve sailor, Upon these seas with naught, But...
December Snows
For Dr Cait Deep in the night, Amongst the falling snow, And otherworldly glow, Memories are stirred. There is such stillness in the world, A tremendous silence, That rings in my ears, And drives sleep from my eyes. The bed groans, And floorboards creak, And ankles crack, And glasses are found. Down the stairs,...