All but the vital
Coming over me
A wave
A fresh tidal
How life goes
Easy on Sunday
Holding hope for the
Week ahead
Leaving behind
The week ago
See where this one will take me
Where I will go
Sunday Runaround
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Tag Archives: New York
Comes The Breaks
Silence in reflection
Questions
Brought
Through reflection
Resurrection
When progress is made
I might have to step
Away
Hope my hands can
Continue to write
When inspiration
Leaves my side
The morning will be alright
When the sun sleeps
At night
Continue on
Persevere
We must
We have to
Big Days
These big days
Come ever so often
After many early mornings
Many hours
In writing
And reflection
They reflect the power of real work
And dedication
On these big days
I embrace the sun
And prepare for what is to come
Concrete Night
Concrete evenings
Late summer calls
Make a last hope
To live in it all
All In One
Eve lights
On side roads
Dim lit
Ways to go
Hold on to our
Withering hope
Of better days
New Springs
Late hopes
While angels sings
We listen
We love
We hope now
All in one
Turn to Each Other
Clear skies
Open nights
Feeling autumn
Calling out
While summers still alive
Hold on hope
While the world turns
Against each other
We turn to each other
Trust Us
Trust us
The people
The workers
Bakers
Musicians
Let trust run in the people
Not the controller
The ruler
In the everyday
Neighbor
Let’s trust one another
Stop the clutter
And trust
Each other
Crickets Anew
Crickets call out
In a late night orchestra
Rising from the fog
Leaving from the trees
Summers eve will fall
Into autumn
But not tonight
Late Night Quiet
The late night quiet
Waiting on the banks
Waiting
Listening
Crickets
Grass
Creeking old trees
Lazy waves
On the eve of another day
Another day
Another night
East of the Calumet
Taking the back road
Coming through
The only way I’ve ever known
Not the glamor
Or the glory
Rather a quiet ride
With a depth of story
Where the rivers run slower
The woods swollen with bugs
Mid summer journey
Through fields and schrubs
The world I know
The world I grew up
Knowing my roots
And giving them love
The stories I’ve heard
People I’ve met
Down on the south side
Due east of the Calumet
A Cup of Songwriting 