Left in Manhattan
cab. Friends’ numbers, pix of my
kids in strangers’ hands.
Lost cell phone
1
Left in Manhattan
cab. Friends’ numbers, pix of my
kids in strangers’ hands.
Left in Manhattan
cab. Friends’ numbers, pix of my
kids in strangers’ hands.
see also Inconstant blogger
That you’ve found me and
read my life in seventeen
syllables floors me.
Today J begins
flying not yet a driver
the sky’s the limit
Got a new camera.
What moments will it capture
in pixels and bytes?
My fingers talk my
eyes listen my head makes it
up my heart hungers.
Commute through fiber
optic cable to a home
built by words not deeds
Like flickering tongues
of flame in green…blue…red. Just
plug in and enjoy.
The heart of the world.
Like fireworks that never fade
explosions of light.
Off to NYC
tomorrow. Garmin riding
shotgun. Can’t get lost.
Should I say what I
feel, or what attracts readers?
Tempting to sell out.