This book reminds me of Cees Nooteboom. The narrator appears self assured. Too self assured for my liking. And then I seem to get to know him better. I read the prose like a letter from an old friend.

A Dance in Silent Violins. A cold fire, once in a while, extinguished the snow. Each of his stones .

A few words to think about today. Buy one of my books. 250 Signs of Western Pennsylvania.

The back page - listing things of interest and inspiration. Friday, June 29, 2007. Madness was someone with attention deficit disorder surfing t. The ability to stick to your search. But I think that if madness is a blanket, then sanity is the holes. And some blankets are too well made, and worn in midsummer, sun beating down, airless and dark beneath. Fingers scrabbling for a loop to pull, a ripcord to tug on to draw some air inside. Thursday, June 14, 2007. And lastly, just .

She whispered her evanescence into me. She would meet me in the valley, too. When she would be passing by. On the day of the bursting bubble. She would sleep upon my heart. Sing songs of melancholia to me. A Dance in Silent Violins. if only it was rashes, if only it was rust, if it was a tattoo. If I could write poetry. A Parade of Falling Rain.

The screech of a gull. Simply Haiku, May 2009. A gull tips its wing. On shores of booming surf. The sting ray glides through. Seaside Moon, Saki Press, 2005.

I kneel on the path. To move the frog to safety. If you would like to join a new summer haiku group, let me know. Some of you already have. Also, if anyone would be prepared to co-host such a group, please let me know that too! Between spring and summer -. Wednesday, 2 May 2007. Spring haiku 2007 is now closing. Thank you all for your contributions. Tuesday, 1 May 2007.