We Dance the Dance of Moments P.O.M. July

We dance the dance of moments Remembered and forgot Things we thought were vital Now we find were not Our history once completed Will surely come again Tests we thought we’d beaten Are no longer ours to claim For all things they have a cycle Within the test of time...

Washed Sand November P.O.M.

Washed Sand Who am I that stain the sand Whose every footprint mark this land For as my breath invites the day In idle thoughts I drift away I gaze behind to see my path As in real time the sea it laps But when at last in full retreat I search to find my footprints...