Posted in California, Life, Poetry, Prose

The Rocks, Unstable

means hopping
from rock to rock
some more stable
than others,
If I were lucky
then Scree would be
but only down, going,
The terminology
of non-forgiving stones
turned rocks,
alongside this mountain, high
which robs my breath
and taxes my legs
used to be my preferred
method of travel

in my youth…



My profile might reflect who I am, what I think and why I write what I do. My profile might just reveal the inner workings of a deranged mind, a helpless soul, and a self-destructive way of living. Don't worry. I'm OK. I've just lost sight of my little sister in the evening clouds....

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s