Welcome, Stranger

Stories, lies, petals, and questions for those who find themselves here by fate or accident.

Welcome Stranger,

If you’ve arrived here,

you found me by accident /

or by omen,

or you were looking for something

and this is what you got instead.

I write on yellow legal pads,

press flowers between pages of Rilke’s Book of Images

and Sahara Nomads in a Modern World,

pocket seeds that might outlast me.

I am an herbalist, a medicine maker,

keeper of an apothecary that barely pays the bills.

I believe in what grows in ruined soil,

what keeps you awake at 3:00 AM.

This place is for the mess I can’t clean up,

for poems that taste like pennies,

for those who walk with both the living and the dead.

If you’re looking for answers,

I don’t have them.

I have stories.

I have keys to places that no longer exist.

I have no idea what I’m doing.

Come in anyway. Stay as long as you’d like.

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