All of our distractions

night slides into day , days in into nights with moon clocks low in the sky,
counting all the turns and burns , to the next  to the last

All the dogs Guarding the her Gates

Bikes are for People

It's too bad she won't live...

then again who does

hands become fantastic, making music above the soft hush of the waves

the bird listened from a distance

And so from this one man, and he as good as dead, came descendants as numerous as the stars in the sky and as countless as the sand on the seashore.

died in faith, not having received the promises, but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and pilgrims on the earth.

Clean with Coffee and Rain

the sun  also gets wet