Many.

Who’d a thunk it?

Searching for old bits.

Software updating:
It takes so damn long these days.
I must need more RAM.

No withered leaves remain to whisper to the wind.

Only the bare branches rattle now as she roars through.

There are no soft answers to her questions posed as she passes by.

Only cold waiting for further words,

which do no follow in her wake.

The Forest Lord’s Tears ( Read more... )

Screaming now. More later.

ALL COPYRIGHTS REMAIN WITH THE WRITERS OF THE POEMS CAPTIONED ( Read more... )

Along time ago, there was a little boy named Suoti ( Read more... )

Still.