387. Drift 

About a 7 hour walk I took in the snow last weekend…  Drifted, like a twinkling flake, Across many miles, Leaving,  Crunched snow in my wake. (Photo – Eli Woodbine, Canada, 2016) 

88. Haze (Poem) 

   Through puffs of leaf mist, our Amsterdam haze,  Once Jenever has dropped down dry gullets with praise… I grasp at my vocal strings, struggle to say..  That it’s truly been Oh! such a wonderful day, Wandering slow, slipping tranquil we go Two ships in the night, docked within the red light..  Glimmering sprites on…

30. Christmas 

  There is little to be said about Christmas that hasn’t already been covered, but beyond the ocean of hot flowing mulled wine, the mountanous sweet mince pie Alps and the unfathomably guarantuan treat that is the Christmas dinner, there remains a core of joy that shouldn’t be ignored. Within these remarks I detach myself…