Late spring Sunday brings
stranger’s fingers down my cheek
from across the sea
The author and site owner can be reached at leeundercedartrees@gmail.com.
I'm a middle-aged nobody breathing one day at a time in Ontario, Canada.
This tiny corner of the Internet is an outlet for unmasking random thoughts and creations surrounding life in general, adventures in budō, and any other topics that come to a ridiculous mind.
"Through journaling, your voice cannot go unheard."
Late spring Sunday brings
stranger’s fingers down my cheek
from across the sea
Here, today I stayed
I stayed angry
But I stayed
…
Your books are not my religion.
Your heroes are not my religion.
Your psychedelic trips are not my religion.
…
“You’re my best friend.” she repeated, for the hundredth time if for the second. “You’ve come so far in two years, but there’s still so far to go. I just wish…”
….
I remember
It’s not a shiny little pebble
It’s a dull rock
Hard and brutal
….
Spring moon hidden, dark:
Under tumultuous black waves
Thrown pebbles vanish
When you miss your best friend too much,
you may find yourself set upon by a melancholy
that drives you to push their memories aside.
…
I knew you meant your favourite
The one I gave you as a gift
The one you never sleep without now
…
Ebbing and flowing
Under the pull of the moon
And the heat of the sun
…
Waves still rise and fall
Anchors begin dissolving
I begin to drown