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...
Lonely Eyes
Lonely eyes did talk to me, and upon the darkness did dwell. Oh lonely eyes that watched over me, when I was too blind to...
A Home
A house, a home, a humble abode. Four walls define, a story untold. Words are useless, to describe this morass, where only space defines, my...
Shortypman: Words and Photos in paperback
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