somewhere on the
rocky road I faded in the dust
sometimes in sprout of spring I
miss the snow and such oft

times when west
winds blow I
long the
falling
mist
where

reality becomes
a stranger and reminisce
there finds a verse though your
knowing it could be getting worse
even for yearning sentiment had

dismissed and cleverly
replaced with soft
jaded kiss
where
time
is in the
essence and the

past in knowing there must
be more to life than cigarettes
and being frightened of flying
on wings with my poetry
in the hands of a
second-rate
copyright
that had
no more of
a plan than my
house cat that knew

already I was a fool “cause I fed her