Sherman Schapiro

Fires burn in the east, Smoke lifts high into the sky, The Red Moon rises. Sherman SChapiro

A burst of sunshine At the end of a long stalk, A dandelion. Sherman Schapiro

Fall fly, you poor immobile beast, cool weather has clipped your wings. No darting, no buzzing like before; just a quiet hanging out, life in the fast lane reduced to inaction; a lurking, a crawling, perhaps interrupted by a short hop, but only when disturbed. But I am disturbed no more. No stalking is needed […]