fragile, in its winding inward to infinite emptiness; left into a unitary motion with the sea; the moon its silent guide, its lonely captor, its only.
unhappily undisturbed, prepared for a stranger to pick up its mysteries, in its whispers and dreams of becoming housed again. taken away again from the pull of the moon.
like a tide this poem pulled me into its imagery ... well done!
Reviewed by Martin Hebert (Reader)
Reviewed on June 19, 2004
sweet~~~peaceful~~marty
Reviewed by na na (Reader)
Reviewed on June 19, 2004
Jennifer, whisering wind as we listen to our fragile dreams by the stars. Sounds of love flow thru us and we no we are an undying part of the infinite. How wonderful it feels to share this with others. Keep searching dear heart and the door will be opened to you. Bill Murray
David Hightower’s lyrically expansive meditation on the whims of fate and the unpredictability of the human condition fill the pages of THE HANGING MAN DREAMS with thrilling music and mesmerizing imagery. Hightower’s richly infused voice echoes the e
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