there are days

that begin

with clear skies

and lucid minds.

with a chance

at a new life.

how good is it.

the constant

inconsistent chance.

to begin

© Hudson Biko


the hope was sterile
in backdrops 
of winding clocks 
and days 
that seemed to stay 
for far shorter 
than the calendar 
made it seem
that they would. 
and there were times.
when the skies 
would cry. 
and the earth 
would shed. 
and the leaves 
just bled. 
and the dying. was everywhere. 
but. here we are. now. 
with the cracks. 
in the ice. 
and drizzles. 
on the window sills. 
all still. 
filled. with thrills. 
of new beginnings  © Hudson Biko


adrian-swancar-1154864-unsplash.jpg puddles of acquiescence 

are warm on days

when the air is bleak

the fingers are meek

and the soul is shivering.

when the veins

pop from skin

in luminescent green

and the lack of the serene

is everywhere.

when this life

 is lived

for sole purpose

of being lived.

© Hudson Biko

Photograph by Adrian Swancar



the warmth

in the voice.

the ease

in the words.

the rare.

the things

too easy

to read too much into.

© Hudson Biko

Photo by Tanja Heffner


there are times

when i do not fear

the fall.

when i look at the streams

run down earth.

and think

of all the ways

their fall

helps the flowers


© Hudson Biko