Empty Footfalls
Empty footfalls, leave trackless patterns, on the mat of colored leaves. Here in a fall afternoon. I believe it’s still there. Even though I know...
Essence
I catch the essence, of the moment, aroma and vibrance, in the morning sun; a rose before it blossoms. Then I stay there and linger,...
Summer Gone
A swirling breeze blows, across vacant spaces, where butterflies once , rode humid waves, on midsummer days . Those colorful wanderers, that once fluttered, across...
Shortypman
Shortypman: Words and Photos in paperback
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