Hangin’on like a thread
In the howlin’ wind
Don’t know which direction
It will come from next,
Lookin’ over my shoulder
For the next closest sign,
Still learnin’ through the failure
Through things gone right.
Searchin’ for the rhyme
The reason
For the anchor to tie to
Blowin’ away again.
slippin’ away as the waves
Try to drag me under
Treadin’ life aimlessly adrift
In and out at moons high tide
Searchin’ for sister sun
Through the cloudy haze
Miles and miles of endless blue
Nothing in sight
Far as I can see,
Just endless openness
Lay before me
Takin’ me down again.

Revisiting some old poetry books….thoughts on a motorcycle reside out west.

White ghost

Running through
Distant fields of memory
White deer
Edge of endless skies
Ghostly apparition
Of truth.
Running out of space
Of time
As man too soon will approach
Driving you from
The woodlands
Of your youth,
Pushing you to the edges
Where safety will no longer be
A given.
White ghost
Memory of you as a child
Staring I awe
Of beauty never seen
Longing to touch
Your soft fur
Longing to see you
Live on forever.

In Western NY there lies a population of 200 white deer. Now on the verge of losing their lands to development….how very sad.