Receding white
yields to moist
patch of brown
and burnt brown
leaves of grass
White branch ,
sepia, taupe, sienna
dried and feathered
by the cold
Up reaching to the sky,
A dull stirring In the air
under a pale grey blue
of enduring daylight .
The sun gauzed
in a grey white haze
stubbornly relents
to its’ descent .

A Young Boy Had a Friend

A Young Boy Had a Friend

There was once a young boy


had a friend .

They laughed together
this friend and he
in flights of fantasy
and through rites of story
till finally
when the
day darkened
to sliver moonshine ,
the friend
descended down below
to that place
where the music
played  in subterranean beat
In those
Places where the work
was mostly done.
And that
young boy ,
he would learn
to live and to earn
as his friend did ,
to  have joy ,
to be tough
and determined
when he had to ,
but most
of all to be mindful
And always
to remember
those who were
and would be
his friends .