“It’s all South from here” he said as

One peach sunset turned into   

Another; lavendar and pink       




It’s all white wine on black beaches

Misty morning before the desert   

Cold beer resting on scraped knee       




“Could you see yourself out here?”

She asked     





The End Of The World




Where Earth stops

and Sea reigns

the Sun goes down

in cosmic orange and

purple mist explosion




where we lived one night

and stomped around like child kings

in our Temporary Paradise