My love for the world
is as simple as this calm Saturday
after  the summer rain,
is soft as the soil that
     seeping  so much water
runs red and crumbly  through
 my  hands.

Unread newspaper sprawls the
dining room table,  waylaid by
the scratch of words to
friends stranded half-way
round  this globe.  Evening
spreads its  scant peace
through lingering dusk.  Beyond
the visible  horizon, there are still some
rutted paths,  and reasons
to move on.