Sun bathes the eyes. I am here and waiting.
Waiting for something new. Something alive and
dead to return. The sun dives down. Where are you going?
In the darkness of this room, I can’t see a thing.
Writer in San Francisco, CA

Slid into heaven
Thanks to raven wings and bones
It is a dark room
Scattering of beads, thunder
I wake in the morn
poem written in Tanka form
Sun bathes the eyes. I am here and waiting.
Waiting for something new. Something alive and
dead to return. The sun dives down. Where are you going?
In the darkness of this room, I can’t see a thing.