Sometimes in the darkness
as I exit my room,
that early morning run to
relief,
I think I hear a voice
speaking to some other
not me
a whispering just beyond
my threshold
beyond me
just beyond
I pause in my journey
hoping to catch a glimpse
an understanding of
quiet ghosts
who so kindly whisper
as I sleep.

Lazy afternoon~
The old dog snores
chasing the silence.

gone –
my love flutters
lost as a butterfly
in a field
without flowers