For months, she and I would talk to each other at length about nothing at all and everything in particular. Life, current events, what occupied our mind, what we did last night or the day before and so on. The conversation was convivial. I found her to be a charming and engaging woman. She was intelligent and well spoken, her words were chosen carefully with rarely an utter of profanity emerging from her lips. I always sp...

I stand alone in the quiet early morning nightThe cold December moon, while low, is still brightHer comforting light reveals your face to meI always find you when I look upon her, you seeAs this last autumn breeze kisses my faceI feel your gentle hand upon my heart in this placeThe shadows of the morning quiet surroundAs if the peace the world sought has finally been foundI turn and face the points of the compass roseAnd...

What does she seeWith her eyes on meThis shell of a manFilled with insecurityBroken and flawedPaint pealed and chippedOn this meandering pathI’ve stumbled and slippedThe occasional scar Etched upon my skinEvidence of deeper woundsRemain buried withinHardly exceptionalIn fact garden varietyHumbled and blessedShe sees me differently