The red dust of miles
The slow creep of years, always
My safe place to land
Ryan Stone

too much coffee, too little sleep, a love of words…
The red dust of miles
The slow creep of years, always
My safe place to land
Ryan Stone

Into the tide pool
Divorce shaped teardrops tumble
And shatter his face
Ryan Stone

Spring cleaning windows
a paw print from last summer
fractures the sunlight
– Ryan Stone

How quickly the years slip past. Gone but never forgotten, old mate.