Karen CookMcLain

These roads here
many years.

Longer than I.
...

Are the natural selection
of ideas.

Ideas spring forth
...

Is not transparent
to all.

Effort must be made
...

Stay bright
late untill I yawn
and say
no longer
...

Simplicity in the walls that
softly hold you tight.

Doors of the souls sleeping
...

Gaze upon the waves
with wonder.

Ponder the clouds
...

Colorful thoughs flowing
wide and free.

Tranquil form miles
...