a quiet toast-
to all the mighty and
slighter forms a
tree takes,
and to abstract works of
wonder those drifter
clouds do make-
then gone
no trace..
i shiver like the mountain lake
as sky feathers onto my
tongue in flakes,
‘neath a dawn moon’s
faded face.
I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out... View more posts
