Poem: Eyes of the Cliff


Coming from the top of the grassy cliff

that overlooks the Pacific Ocean

big, round eyes and a nose like a traffic cone

giving me some vague directions

or quite possibly a warning.

So I listen to the eyes with the cone-shaped nose,

an angel of the grassy cliff, looking down on me,

speaking only

to this misguided sailor, out on the high seas.


Freelance writer, poet, yogi and photographer from Santa Barbara, California. I write and take pictures about a variety of topics, from my early childhood in Philadelphia, to my years as a family therapist, and finally to my soul-searching years in California. The things that move me may have a humorous or serious content or both. Either way, I hope my poetry, pictures and stories resonate with you.

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