Winter’s not just darks and lights, when looking deep at nature’s sights.
Some colors muted, others clear; the first brush strokes of this new year.
Author: james geehring
gunpowder in an hourglass
Because my hourglass seemed full, I had not given thought,
To cherish every grain within, a lesson just now taught.
Like gunpowder, instead of sand, our time in little mounds
A careless spark from destiny, releasing death’s dark hounds.