I once had a thought that teaching would be a nice career
Shelving dreams of writing things that meant more to me
Ten years in and again the words I have yet to write weigh
Heavier now than they’ve ever been, the shelves bend in
I count down the days until I’m free again, dreaming when
The shelves come down and a life of story-telling begins
11.10.19
Winter came quick ‘round here
We bundled down and watched
Trees catch fire from a setting sun
11.7.19
One day I’ll tell you what it meant
To feel soft skin on my shoulder
While you slumber, I dream of
When we’ll sleep by starlight