Tied up in 8 Tentacles of a Goal Octopus

As of today, a printed book with my name on its cover is on its way to me. Gather ‘round Susan, Charles, Orhan and Jean, for I have joined your ranks! Note to self, disbelieving friends and family, I have now accomplished one of my personal goals and am one step closer to thinking of

In autumn, brown beacons nose their seeds skyward

  Dead star   Lost is that light year when my star glowed, swelled, exploded: –   Now walking across the metal bridge morning’s grapefruit rays Break the breathing night To touch yellow leaves, Rustle skirts on trees. Brown beacons nose their seeds skyward before the snow.   Lost is the night That held my