Falling Home

After hiking into the nature preserve, I took a moment to breathe – absorbing everything around me: sights, sounds, and smells. This recording expresses how I felt.

Writing Without Words

How do I begin to write poetry, when I’m far from the brink of despair?
Do I string words like lights at Christmas time, wrapping them across my body and around my neck,
until I choke out some semblance of meaning?

First Regrets

lips of lovers, first regrets

I was young. We were dumb. That’s usually how the story unfolds.
In our case, you were new to me. And in a way, I was new to you,
we were lonely and craving each other.