The winter’s stars

Landed there

And we just thought

The whole trip

Seemed like true proof,

Right on target,

Better than the

Sugar sweet

First flushed cheeks,

The heat

We didn’t anticipate.

Not one, but two stung

Swollen at our story-song,

Told and folded

Out of view,

Just our fun.

On Tradition

Aus Gott wird man gebor'n, in Christo stirbet man. //////////////// Und in dem heil'gen Geist fängt man zu leben an.


"If you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much space." - anonymous




Vingettes Of A Memoir

We Listen To Mary Magdalene (Lady Nada)

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