Old Mick didn’t believe in flowers – “they just die” –
no, Mick gave trees… and shrubs… and bushes… and
saplings – both deciduous and evergreens.
And so my Auntie June planted a garden,
which grew into a forest of lost dreams.

From > Auntie June’s Forest of Lost Dreams 
Poetry
A Life of Loss (2nd Draft)
A Thursday in May, 2004
Auntie June’s Forest of Lost Dreams
Awake All Night (Thinking of You)
Gamble
High Above the Willow Tree
Life in the Carriage of the Lazy and the Late
Such Introspection
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