looking-out front windows… fan rattles… last of summer’s air comes…wind of old…a chained ghost stops-by…whatcha havin’…

streetlights shining on a corner pocket…casting shadows upon suburban America… not afraid…no…those fears left long ago…

she sleeps soundly down the hall…unaware of midnight maneuvers… facing a page…collections of thoughts slapped on canvas…always taking a risk… my sweetest slumbers…shhhh…

and there is unrest…an uneasiness in easiness…don’t get too comfortable…nothing good can come of that…love…life…art…do not take for granted…all can be gone…it has happened…

i hear her silence…join her…uh huh…the spirit keeps me awake…this spooky art will not allow peace…no…it does not…
thank you…

i have arrived…