THIS TREE IS NOT YOUNG
MANY LOVERS HAVE SCARRED HER
BUT SHE SITS AND HOPES

LEAVES TURN TO AMBER
SOFTLY, THEY FALL TO THE GROUND
THE TREES, NAKED, BLUSH

APPLE PICKING TIME
I SEE THEM, SMELL THEM, TASTE THEM
STUFF THEM IN MY BAG

THIS MAN, JOHN, HAD DREAMS
JUST LIKE MLK HAD DREAMS
WHY WERE BOTH KILLED YOUNG?

A NANTUCKET BOAT
LONGINGLY LOOKING TO SEA
ACHING TO GO HOME

A RED HEAD CO-ED
IS STUDYING ON THE TRAIN
LOOKS LIKE SHE'S ON FIRE

MYSTERY WOMAN,
INK OVER CHUNKS OF GLUED WOOD,
WHO LIVES IN MY HEART
