I’m dry this 
drought taking hold 
my roots burrowing 
deeply for some 
moisture of inspiration 
none coming from 
the clouds of 
you just broken 
and dry promises 
forcing me to 
go deeper without 
than upwards towards 
you my rain 
my leaves outstretched 
begging for embrace 
and relief from 
my own imagination 

A square window 
in my bathroom 
high on wall
frames an orchid 
that silently awaits 
those few soft
silent slow rays 
of morning sun
as gray pink
clouds tease along 
some dark though 
most wispy white 
and the orchid 
shadow black not 
green or yellow 
yet for day

It’s time love 
for some coffee 
sunrise and cuddles 
do not drip
now sad moon
tears of morning 
for lovers dream 
of such time 
when two embrace 
the others eyes 

Another fork
crossroad dividing 
an intersection 
this way
or that
maybe forward 
maybe back
always moving 
right along
a tumbleweed 
some dust 
a leaf
cut corners 
across fields 
rolling where
almost there

What does one 
when what was
is no longer 
when does and
where does and
then finally why
does one do 
how does one 
do something different 
or something differently 
when is it 
then this new 
when does what