“Herman, cut your hair!” Echoed through the grove If he’d heard it once or 1,000 times Herman surely did not know ~ He rather liked the way his hair fell Conveniently obscuring his face From his overbearing mother Whose branches crowded his space ~ Yet each time the wind blew Herman let down his hair… Read More Herman


Across the silent Lonely night Under a moon So full and bright; A call echoes Through the air Questioning Are you there? A faint noise From afar Answers her In a distant howl; Uncertainty Comes to an end As he calls her home To be with him