Spritely Musings

Out. I’m out. Mum, I’m gay, I texted her. That’s nice dear. As in you’ve renamed yourself, or like two poofy men? Homphobic bitch. Out.…

Ancient gnarly filled with seasonsmy stories and experiences infuse me travel with me make me who I am…All things I see, touch, do and feel…

And with thatThe dahlias are suddenly finished. My only consolationThe wry knowledgeof just how quicklynext year will come roundagain

not always not even usually, but every now and then I float out above the conversation I am in and the cruel thought occurs “oh…

Poetry will save us as it has and always does It’s poetry who catches us falling in and out of love A resting tent that…

I was somewhere that I thought I might see you and my heart was aflutter I saw someone who could have been you and my…

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