A poem or two
“Foothills and Clouds” by yours truly
Sometimes in the May evening
The distant foothills seem to meld
Into the low white clouds.
And there is often windy chill.
As you will.
“Beard” by yours truly
“The beard can get so long now
That it makes your face itch.
It affects your lips, even your mouth.”
“You need a new facial razor.”
“Yeah, just ordered one from Amazon.”