Willow tree where the rain falls,
2 loved pets beneath the roots,
gray sand like dandruff
packs them in close and tight.
Thunder at 3:37 a.m. Thursday night
wonder of my dream mind loves
thunder rain.
It is just a part of me, loose with wind.
I know in the a.m. blending in the
moisture birds will chirp sounds
blasting echoes against the surface
of the sun.
Before the dawn light, small minds like my own
become active gearing thoughts toward work.
Economizing each part of me, loose like the wind.
This is the willow tree where the rain falls.
I am self-employed in my primitive occupation
selling pens, pad of paper, calendars, tee shirts
with your name customized on them.
It is just a part of me loose with the wind.
Life as an author is a daily man grind
to coffee grounds & leftovers.
With the thunder, & lack of sleep,
well deserved.

Volume 2, Issue 1, 2007