Symbols of Love

There is a language dead
that grips the heart
from deep within its crypt.

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The Net

I wished that love
was not far-flung
as foreign coasts

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Do not Fall For a Man Like Me

Do not fall for a man like me
I am not blind; I do not see.
I am the reason storms have names

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Her Autumn – Poem

When among the trees will autumn come?
What multitude of words will I have lost
among the soft-dying of sweet summer poppies

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The Nature of the Heart

The heart is a hunter searching
before the dead of winter has melted;

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