A Rickety Skiff: Poems

I cannot escape the sense, sown with desire
that this head—scratching labyrinth of a life
is but a dream with a strange story—line
a dream from which we will one day wake
wondering what it all could have meant
as we ditch the creeping clouds of night
and step into the day of an untried world
unplugged, clear—eyed, infant souls again.
— from What in the World