Stuck in the middle
Fleeting/Fading
Ordinary lives like yours and mine. Lives in an ordinary town. Where, like everywhere else, nothing lasts, whatever you might imagine.
Each And Every Day
Look away
Generous Smiles
While we can
Those Old Folks
You don’t know
What’s In Front
What others might feel
Properly Awful
There’s little to make waiting any easier
Mog
A few are better than none
Ripples
You are not that important. Not really.
Anyway
I don’t know what I can do
This Old Thing?
Who’s judging anyway?
