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A tree was bent, but not for the reasons thought - it wasn’t made by a native tying a knot. It was made as an older tree fell into the...

Aspiration painting by Robert Arthur Wilson What do conservation, history, and photography have in common with one another? When one...

The trees are past their peak - The season's drawing nearer as our mountain creek flows into a mirror. A chill is in the air - the scent...

Hear ye, Hear ye! All lads and lasses, some words come fast, others like molasses. Something which always fills me with zest, has burst...

A new year has begun and the weather is cold. A spider’s web has been spun and the sunset is gold. The trees stand barren, devoid of...

B eside branch and leaf, a convergence of streams meanders beneath, Their ancestor’s dreams. And I bathed in song Listen to her whispered...

I had posted my poem on Reddit, asking for a critique, and much to my surprise, someone composed a song for piano and vocal for my poem. ...

There was a time when I used to believe I had faith in my future and passionate dreams There was a time when I thought I could be...

A short poem about my favorite season Fallen leaves rustle at my feet: Orange and yellow, Moss and peat, Babbling brooks, Rocks and...