our wings
seared to the quill
like the dream sparrow
i cupped fast
pinned to hope
was never there
flight it is not
drops of wax
gone by morning
and who could have said it?
that in holding hands
we’re letting go
here i am, older
accipitrine
arrowing forward
into cooling dawns
poems, prose and pathways
Writer | Artist
Fatos e Curiosidades sobre a natureza e tecnologia
Meditations on Art and Life
"per l' allegria il pianeta nostro è poco attrezzato. Bisogna strappare la gioia ai giorni futuri "
a resource for moving poetry
Linking collage work to the meaning of personal and universal symbols.
This is my adventurous story about buying, designing, and renovating homes in ITALY